Blood, Brimstone, and Buckshot
by Jojuya
Summary: This takes place right after season five of Supernatural. Dean trys desperatly to free Sam from Hell with the help of Castiel and Enoch, the Seraphim with her own agenda. It is an alternative story arch, so please just take it as it is. And enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

She padded down the dim street, asphalt irritating her bare feet. A cool breeze brushed her long dark hair over her shoulder revealing goose bumps sprouting across her chest. Though she didn't know she was cold. She didn't really know what cold was. It was simply yet another strange and new sensation. It was something to be savored. She had felt so little for so long.

She had woken only a few hours previous in a cold, dark room on a cold, dark table, and she burst into consciousness with a scream. But there was no one to hear it. After a few minutes of her head spinning and heavy breathing, she could think clearly enough to understand what she had to do. She did not know where she was, but no matter, she knew where she needed to go. So she climbed off the table, up the stairs, and out of what looked like a quaint house.

She had been walking for hours led on by a simple knowing of her goal. Her bare feet were hurting from walking over gravel for miles, and her bare skin was sticky from sweat but would chill in the wind. She secretly cursed the fact that she didn't have a better way of travel, but she was almost there. A small suburb with houses that all looked the same and far too many street lights. She raised her hand, fingers spread, and all the streetlights dimmed and winked out. It was gradual so as to avoid suspicion. She needed darkness right now. There were far too many eyes out in the night.

The house was nothing extraordinary. A tidy yard and bland paint job, just like the rest on the block, but this was the house. It might as well have had a twenty foot, red arrow hovering over it, she was sure. And so, without hesitation, she climbed to steps and rang the bell. At that moment she briefly doubted herself, and fingered a sapphire cross around her neck. It was the only thing she wore, so when the boy opened the door and immediately froze wide eyed, it would have been completely understandable. She didn't seem to notice this reaction.

"Dean Winchester?" she asked. Her voice seemed to break whatever trance he might have been under, and he turned into the house and slammed the door. This was surprising. She could hear the boy calling for his mother and sighed deeply, breathing back her annoyance. She rang the door bell again.

This time a young woman answered, Lisa. She was pretty with a small frame and dark hair; however she wore an angry expression.

"What the hell is this?" she asked looking the naked girl up and down.

"Dean Winchester?"

"No," Lisa spat shaking her head.

"May I speak to Dean Winchester?"

"No. What you can do is get the hell off my porch." She went to slam the door, but the strange girl put her hand out and stopped in dead with a great rattle.

"I know he is here, and I shall not leave until I speak to him. Bring him to the door, now."

Lisa's eyes betrayed her then, she was afraid. Dean had not told her everything, but he had told her enough for her to understand that this was not just a crazy person on her porch. This was the reason there was a strange circle painted under the welcome mat. This was the reason why she burned sage candles instead of more inviting scents; Dean would know what to do. The situation, the girl, was strange, and Dean knew strange. She nodded slowly.

"Thank you." The girl said it without any of her previous tone. It was polite almost cheerful. Lisa closed the door and locked it. Dean was upstairs sleeping. He slept a lot these days; he said he was catching up for years of nightmares.

The door swung open slowly, cautiously, and there he stood. She had never met him, but knew his face all too well. She would say that she knew his face as well, as she knew her own, but that was no longer true as she had no idea what her face looked like now.

"Hello, Dean Winchester." He turned his head inside the house.

"Okay, so you weren't kidding." Turning back, his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Enoch; I am an Angel of the Lord."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his brow. Obviously he was not happy to see her, which she could not blame him for. She knew what he had been through.

"Of course you are." He could have easily not believe her, but he knew better. He had seen that stare many times before. Castiel had locked him in the same expression too many times to count. "What are you doing here? Isn't this thing over yet?"

"I am not here for what you think. I am here for you."

"For me? What, you here to lead me to the light or something? No thanks."

Her eye brows furrowed, "No, I am here to help you."

"With what?"

"I am not quite sure."

"Well, isn't that just great. Look, I don't want your help, so why don't you fly back to Heaven or whoever sent you, and tell them from me to shove it?"

"I cannot fly right now, and they did not send me. I believe we are not understanding each other. I would like to explain."

"I don't want to hear. Good-bye." He threw the door closed, but again she put her hand out to stop it.

"I cannot leave. I cannot go back to Heaven until I finish my mission here on Earth, and if I cannot get back to Heaven I have nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, but sit here until you talk to me. I cannot force you to talk to me, but I am prepared to stand her for as long as it takes. How long do you think an angel wait?"

The answer was clear. Forever.

Dean stared her down looking for the bluff. There was none. He opened the door wide. "You have five minutes." She entered the house, fully confirming that she was not, in fact a demon. "Alright, first things first," he said. "Where are your clothes?"

"I woke like this and have no means of procuring clothing at this time."

"Didn't pass any clotheslines on the way?"

"That would be stealing." She eyed him curiously.

"Right." He went into the next room and produced a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and followed him into a small dining area adjacent to a kitchen. Dean gestured for her to sit and strode to the refrigerator, retrieved a beer, and sat opposite Enoch. He drank, and then with a sigh waved his hand. "Go."

"I have been bestowed the task of helping you. I am to guide and protect you to a certain end."

"What end?"

"I don't really know. I am not privy to all the information. I am strictly on a need to know basis. When new information is needed, it will be revealed."

"And which angel 'bestowed' this task on you? Who's your boss?"

"I do not work for angels, this comes from God."

"Oh, I bet." He shot as he took another drink. "I've heard that before, and it was all a bunch of bullshit."

"This time it is different."

"How can I be sure you are telling the truth?"

"You cannot." She took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say. "I may be talking out of turn here, I don't even know if this is true, but I think this mission has something to do with your brother." This peeked his interest, but he would not let her know that.

"My brother is gone."

"No, he is not. Even now he battles against what is in him, but Lucifer is far too strong for him to ever truly win. I think I am supposed to save him; or you are, or we together. That is how this… feels."

"How it feels. You don't even really know why you are here. And I don't recall any of the angels having any interest in saving him before. Why the change of heart?"

"As I said, I do not work for them. What happened to you was not supposed to happen. Well, at least it was not supposed to happen the way it did. I believe God would like to make things right."

"A year later huh?"

"I admit that the time frame is… unfortunate-"

"Unfortunate? Unfortunate is beyond an understatement. You say God wants to make this right, well where was he when we getting our asses handed to us?"

"When God left heaven he did not believe that the remaining angels would react as they did. But there were pressing matters that had to be taken care of."

"This story you are trying to sell me is complete crap, you know. We were there. Sam and I spoke to Joshua, and he said that God didn't think the fucking apocalypse was his problem, what pressing matters were so important that he couldn't take one second to lift a finger to help us?"

"None of your business." Her tone was dark and forceful. "And God did help you, as much as he could at that time. He saved your life, and resurrected Castiel more than once. Perhaps he did not think it was his problem because he had put his best men on it."

"Who? Michael? Or maybe Zach? Because I've got news for you, his best men, screwed the pooch."

"Not them, you. Both you and your brother. And you did not disappoint. You saved the world, and now maybe it is time for your reward."

"Yeah, maybe, but you don't really know for sure." Enoch shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's been a year, and I made a promise to my brother."

"Have you never broken a promise to your brother?" She eyed him down across the table and he knew that it would be no use to lie. "I believe I was sent here to retrieve your brother from the darkness but without you, my efforts will go in vein." Again they stared at each other from across the table. Dean felt terribly torn. He had promised Sam that he would not try to save him; that he would live a normal life. But that was impossible, and he had already broken his promise. For the last few months he had poured over any book remotely related to the subject he could get his hands on. Even now there was a pile waiting for him on the nightstand. He glanced at Lisa who had been standing nearby the whole time.

"Wait here," he said and took Lisa into the next room.

"Are you alright?" She asked

"Not really. I can't believe this. I don't know what to do."

"Do you really think she is an angel?"

He sighed, "Yeah I do, but she's kinda different from the others. Somehow."

"Do you think she can really help Sam?" He shook his head, he didn't know. Lisa put her hands on his shoulders and held him at arm's length. "I know you have been trying to figure out a way to find Sam for months now. This may be your best chance."

"It's not my life anymore."

"Dean, not even I believe that."

"You think I should go?"

"No, but I know you will. I just hope to God that you come back." She embraced him then and they both returned to the kitchen. Enoch sat still in the chair staring straight ahead as angels tend to.

"Ok, you got my attention, what do we do?" Dean said. She looked at him and nodded.

"First we must find and recruit the angel, Castiel."

"Why?"

Her eyebrows furrowed again, "I do not know, it is simply the next step." She did not understand why he questioned so much.

"Ok, give me a few minutes; I've got to get a few things together."

"Very well, I shall wait." With that she sat back and stared off straight ahead, as angels tend to. Dean glanced at Lisa, and back at Enoch wrapped in a blanket. Lisa got the hint.

"Uh, I think I have a few old clothes I can let you have," Lisa offered.

"Thank you, Lisa Braeden" Enoch replied. "That is extremely generous of you."

"Just follow me." Lisa reached out to the angel, but Enoch flinched away.

"Please don't touch me." She did not say it unkindly; it was almost like she was embarrassed. The reaction was strange even for an angel, but Lisa simply dropped her hands and gestured for the girl to follow.

This left Dean alone to contemplate exactly what he was going to do. The whole situation was unreal, and that was saying something for Dean. However, on his own he was unable to find anything to help Sam, this angel (if she was in fact an angel) was offering at least a little hope, and if it all turned out to be complete crap, he could always kill her. His thinking led him to the garage, to the shrouded figure of the 67 Impala. With a single pull, the tarp fell off revealing the car in all its black brilliance. The trunk was still well stocked, but it had been a while and the guns would have to be cleaned and inspected. A part of him looked forward to it.

Dean's hand dragged over the smooth curves of the impala. He loved that car. The one constant in his life. Even now, after all that had happened, all he had lost and learned, all he had struggled through, all the shit, the Impala was there, just as she had always been. He had not driven her in a long while but now he could feel his hands itch at the thought of getting behind the wheel. Pulling himself away from the car was hard at the moment, but he did. There were other things to do. He had to pack a bag and say goodbye to the people he had come to love.

It didn't take long; Dean was always terrible at goodbyes. And he was soon again at the impala's side checking the trunk's inventory. Enoch came into the garage. She was now fully clothed; old sneakers, t-shirt, sweat pants and a hoodie (none of it fit well). He eyed her.

"I feel strange," she said.

"Deal with it. Let's go."

Four hours later it was midnight and they were driving out of the state. They had sat there in silence except the constant soundtrack of classic rock from the radio. But suddenly a thought occurred to Enoch.

"Where are we going? To meet the angel, Castiel?"

"No, Cas is not answering his phone. We are going to a friend's house."

"I think that is unwise, Dean Winchester. The next step is to find the angel, Castiel. We should stop everything else and spend our energy on that."

"Calm down. I left a message. He'll call when he calls; in the mean time I need a little more information."

"About what?"

"You."

"You could just ask me."

"I could, but no offense; I don't trust anything you say. I've never even heard of an angel named Enoch. So we're just going to do a little fact finding." She didn't like what he was implying. She was not use to others not trusting her. She turned away from him to look out the window at the strange world around her and the silence returned for another two hours until Dean could not suppress his enormous yawns. It seemed that he was not used to all-nighters anymore. Enoch noticed this as well.

"You are tired, Dean Winchester. Your driving skills are deteriorating."

"That is an outstanding observation." He had already slowed the car to pull over. "I need a couple of hours of sleep." Enoch nodded. "You just going to sit there quietly?"

"Yes, I will try not to disturb you." With that she stared off straight ahead again, and Dean leaned back and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be able to sleep at all, but he was beat and needed to at least try. The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the sun in his face and the rhythmic vibration of a moving car. It was six hours later.

He woke with a start realizing that he was in a passenger seat. He looked over at Enoch, who was behind the wheel. "What the hell?"

"Good morning," she answered.

"You're driving my car. Why are you driving my car?"

"It would have been a waste of time for me to sit while you slept and I knew that you would not give me your permission to drive, so I waited until you fell asleep and moved you over. I thought it would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission. We didn't lose time and you got to sleep more. The good outweighed the bad."

"How did you even learn to drive?"

"Watching you. I learn very quickly." At this moment the Impala was pulling up to a traffic light. They were still a distance away when the light turned yellow, but with a jump Enoch put her foot down and sped through the intersection. However, the timing wasn't right and the light had turned red. This ended with the Impala narrowly avoiding a truck. Dean yelled loudly at her.

"What are you doing? You almost killed us! I thought you said you watched me."

"I did. Red: stop. Green: fast. Yellow: very fast so as to beat the red light. Is that not correct?" She was genuinely confused. She thought she had paid very close attention and understood driving. Dean leaned over and hissed in her ear.

"Pull… over…" She did immediately, but still did not understand his anger. As they switched seats he said, "You are never allowed to drive again, understand?" She nodded and slid into the passenger seat. Dean slid in after her and quickly did a spot check to see if she had moved anything or worse, broke anything. "Where are we anyway?"

"Four hours from your friend Bobby's house." He looked at her surprised. She shrugged. "That is where you wanted to go."

"How did you know that?"

"I can hear your thoughts."

"You are reading my mind? That's not cool."

"It is very useful. I am here to help you, so I can know what you need or want as fast as you can think it. And I learn much by listening to your thoughts, though I was rather uncomfortable with your first impressions of me."

"Ok, stop there, enough. No more reading my mind… at all." She had that confused look again. "It's an invasion of privacy… and in my defense you were naked the first time we met." They drove on in silence again, but it was Dean this time that broke it. "So you can read minds, learn really fast, and don't need to sleep, but you are riding around in the car. That's different."

"While I am here I must travel as you. I am your protector, so I must stay by your side at all times."

"And how's that?"

"Very… annoying. Humans are very slow."

"I still don't understand why you are helping me. The only thing angels ever wanted from me was my ok to shove Michael up my ass, and I wouldn't say that was much help."

"None of the angels know that I am here. This mission has nothing to do with any of them."

"What happens if they find out you're here?"

"Some might try to stop me, maybe. I never thought about it."

"You talk like it's no big deal. What you going to do when an Arch-angel shows up? That doesn't make you nervous at all?"

Enoch cocked an eyebrow. "No, that does not make me nervous. Of course I would rather it not come to that, but serving as Seraphim has erased most of my fear."

"Seraphim, huh?" Enoch nodded. "That doesn't really mean anything to me, you know."

"Oh? Hmmm…"

Bobby's home was the same as always. The scrap yard stretched out behind the slightly dilapidated house. It was a shabby thing, that held a great many booby-traps and fond memories. The Impala rolled up to the front next to Bobby's nondescript van, and as Dean turned the key he wondered if perhaps he should have called before showing up.

However, it was too late for all of that. A year had gone by without so much as a phone call between Dean and Bobby, the thought of which would have seem absurd just thirteen months ago. Bobby, the only father Dean had left, had been there through it all. He had been maimed and cured, sold his soul; died to only be brought back and he along with only two others walked away from the apocalypse. Yes, Bobby had been through it all with Dean, and when he came to the door after the third knock, it was as if no time had passed. He looked the same, grizzled and hard, but his expression softened when his eyes fell on Dean.

"Hey boy," was his greeting.

"Hey Bobby." They embraced like father and son, like old friends. But the moment passed and as Dean pulled away the other man's expression was perturbed.

"What's wrong?"

Dean scratched the back of his head and gestured at Enoch. "This is… uh, E. Can we come in for a while? I need to talk to you." Enoch stepped in close, far too close.

"Hello, Bobby Singer."

Bobby took a step back a looked over her shoulder at Dean who waved his hands like wings and mouthed the word "angel."

"Oh," Bobby said returning his attention to her. "Hello." He put his hand out for her to shake, but she didn't. She eyed it wearily for a few uncomfortable beats until Dean pushed her into the house.

On the way in he leaned to Bobby and said out of the side of his mouth, "Yeah, not a big fan of touching." He walked Enoch into a dusty room with an old couch and even older TV. It would only get three channels and couldn't show green, but Dean flipped it on anyway and sat Enoch opposite it.

"Look! Magic box, just sit here and watch it for a while." Enoch's eyes went large staring at the screen as Dean walked past her and grabbed Bobby by the arm dragging him into the library, which again looked just as it did before except that perhaps there were a few more stacks of old leather bound tomes. Quickly the sliding doors were closed and the two men could talk without interruption.

"What's going on?" Bobby said completely dumbfounded.

"That's why I'm here; I need your help in figuring it out. Last night she shows up at my house for no reason telling me that God had sent her, but she doesn't really know why. She 'feels' like it is to help Sam, but she can't be sure."

"Boy, you attract angels like crap attracts flies."

"I know, but I don't even know if she is a real angel. I know she's not a demon, but there are a lot of other things out there that are just as capable of lying, you know."

"You ask Cas?"

"Not answering his phone. God knows where he is now… literally."

"It's not like them to just show up without a plan."

"I was hoping you would have some information on her in your books."

"I'll try. What do you know about her?"

"Not really a whole lot. She said that she was a Sera…Something or other." Bobby's face dropped.

"A Seraphim?"

Dean nodded. "That's it."

"That's not possible." Bobby walked away rubbing his chin. Dean followed. "Seraphim are the highest order of angels." He retrieved a book and glanced at Dean, whose face was blank. "Let me paint you a picture, genius. There are twelve orders of angels. Now I figure Cas is about a level ten. Michael and other Arch-angels are only a level eight. A Seraphim is a level one." He could see in Dean's face that now he was starting to get it and he continued. "According to the lore there are only four, they have six wings and personally attend God himself. They don't ever leave his side; they don't ever come to Earth. Some writings say that they are too powerful to ever be confined to a vessel."

"Anna told me once that only four angels had ever seen God's face." Dean said peering at the sliding doors. "Enoch is one of them? What the hell is she doing with me?"

"Enoch?"

"That's her name."

"Hmmm…" Bobby scratched his head, his trucker hat leaning askew. "That sounds familiar, really familiar." Bobby went back to the book shelf and started searching, while Dean looked down at the first book he had had. It was on the desk flipped to a page with a black and white etching of an angel with six wings, two covering its eyes, two its body and the last two open wide. Bobby exclaimed as he found the book he was looking for and came back to the desk flipping its pages. "The name 'Enoch' isn't rare in the bible, but those Enochs are all just men, nothing special. But there are some references to the name in older writings. There is the Book of Enoch, it's really old. One of the first writings ever really. It is a story of a man that is visited by fallen angels and taught the mysteries of the world. And there is another mention, right here," His finger poked at a page as he read. Bobby's face became grim as he handed the book to Dean. "In here Enoch is the name of the Battlefield Angel. This is the angel that would mow down whichever army was judged as evil."

"What? Like demons?" Dean asked staring at the book.

"No… Man. Enoch destroyed man. And I'm not talking one or two at a time. I'm talking wiping out cities. Sodom and Gomorrah, shit like that."

"So what are you telling me here? She's some kind of killer angel?"

"It looks like you got one lethal bitch of a fallen angel sitting on your shoulder."

"You would be mistaken." They both whipped around to find Enoch standing between the sliding doors. Fear coursed through them. She seemed darker in a way, no longer lithe and naive, but dangerous. "I am not, nor ever was, fallen," she said.

"Ok, what about the rest of it?" Dean ventured. "All the Battlefield Angel stuff?"

"That is true, but it was very long ago, before I was Seraphim."

"You wiped out entire armies? Cities?"

"It was God's will."

"You're the hammer," Dean mumbled and shook his head.

"What?" she asked, but he just turned from her. She sighed inwardly, but nothing said here was of any import. Her past was of no consequence to the matter at hand. "You have the information you wanted on me, can we now continue on?"

"Why you?" Dean countered. "Why did they send you? You said that you are supposed to be my protector, but that doesn't seem to be one of your skills. Maybe you're not here to save Sam. Just maybe you're here to get rid of him once and for all. That would seem more up your alley."

"You are right, Dean Winchester. There is no reason why I should be here, but I was chosen and given my orders. None of which is to hurt you or your brother, or any other human."

"I'm supposed to believe you now?"

"I have not lied to you."

"You seemed to have left out a bunch of stuff."

"What I was thousands of years ago has nothing to do with what is going on right now. You should know better than most, that one should not be judged by horribly dark deeds that they might have done in their past." Dean's breath caught in his throat. "You may throw your stone at me, but at least what I did was for a higher power and not just to save myself from pain."As she finished, a light bulb behind her shattered into harmless sparks. The words hung in the air though and dug deep into him and Bobby could see the anger and shame bubbling under his skin. He put a hand out to Dean.

"Let's all calm down now." He turned to Enoch. "You want to help Sam? You think you can?"

She nodded. "Please do not think I am cruel. I am not what you think I am. I am not what is written, and I do know what has happened to Sam and to you both. All I want to do is help. I think I can help. I swear…"

"You swear!" Dean spat as if the word of an angel was worthless.

"To God." Her voice was softer now and it was apparent that she was sincere. "At least wait and ask Castiel if I am telling you the truth." Dean was clearly not pleased, but nodded all the same.

"Ok," Bobby breathed. "You both alright now? If I leave you alone, you're not going to rip each others' heads off, right?"

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

"I have a job, maybe. Up near where you live now, actually. Zombies, maybe."

"I haven't heard anything."

"It's this," Bobby handed him a newspaper. Enoch came around to read the article over Dean's shoulder. "Girl died in a car accident and then later walked right out of the funeral home. They found her fingerprints on all the door knobs."

"Do not bother, Bobby Singer." Enoch said still reading. "That is me."

"You're walking around in a dead girl?" Dead seemed unusually grossed out.

"I had no choice. I cannot share a vessel with another living soul. It never works… well."

"Well, that's just great. Her father was the one who contacted me about it. He's waiting for me to meet him right now to go look into it. What am I supposed to tell him?"

"Her father?" Enoch asked her eyebrows furrowed. "Her father has been dead for twenty three years. Her mother too. That is why she was chosen for me. All her immediate family has passed." Dean and Bobby stared at her and then at each other, both not quite understanding what they were hearing.

"Then who hired me? I think I better find that out."

"I'll go with you." They were both out the door before Dean had finished his thought. No need to pack. They're vehicles were quite well stocked for whatever it was waiting to meet Bobby. Enoch sat beside Dean in the Impala as they followed Bobby into town.

"What do you think it is?" she asked.

"Demon, shifter. Doesn't matter, it's never good."

"I am sorry for what I said to you, about your past. I am just rather sensitive about my own and tend to lash out. I shall try to control myself in the future."

"Don't worry about it. Look, I'm still not sure about all this, but if you are really going to help Sam, I will try to trust you."

"Thank you, Dean Winchester."

The nondescript van and black Impala rolled into the dirt parking lot of a small bar outside of town. Ever since the Road House had been destroyed, hunters had been finding new waterholes to perch themselves, and Dean recognized several of the cars parked in the lot.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath as he shifted into park. "Ok, you stay here."

"No, I am to stay with you."

"Yeah well, there are hunters in there, and they are going to pick up on the fact that you are not human."

"I look perfectly human."

"Right, but you act like an angel."

"They would attack an angel." She seemed horrified.

"They won't know you are an angel, they'll just know that you aren't normal and if I'm right about these guys, they shoot first and ask questions later."

"What if you need my help?"

"I can take care of myself, been doing it for a long time. Plus if shit goes down, just wave your hand and wipe the whole damn thing off the map."

She glared at him. "That is not funny."

"It's a little funny." And with that he was gone.

Dean and Bobby entered the bar as nonchalant as possible. It was very much like the roadhouse, nothing special just a bar and a few tables. A juke box sat in the corner spewing old country hits that seemed to be muffled by all the talk and smoke in the air. A group of four "cowboys" sat at the bar, each half drunk and loud. In the far corner, clear to Dean, three hunters sat sullen, nursing their liquor. They looked rough and tired. They may have had a bad day, but if something was up, it was comforting to have them nearby with their concealed shotguns by their sides. Then there was the nervous little man sitting alone at a table. He was drinking a soda and was carefully keeping his head down, determined not to make eye contact.

Bobby motioned to the little man as if Dean needed the hint. They approached and the man's face broke into a weary smile when he saw them.

"I'm glad you came," he said. His voice sounded as nervous as he looked. "Who's this?"

"A friend," Bobby replied.

"Is he going to help find my daughter?"

"Yeah, he is-"

"Good let's go." The little man stood, but Dean put out a hand.

"Hold on for a sec, I just need a little more information before we go."

"Can't we talk about this on the way?"

"I would prefer to do it now." Dean sat and Bobby followed leaving the little man no choice but to do the same. "Now, could you please describe your daughter?" There was no picture along with the news article and Dean was interested as to how much this guy actually knew.

"Uh, she's short, blue eyes, blonde hair…" This guy was done. Both Dean and Bobby knew it, for the girl sitting in the Impala had dark hair and staring green eyes. They exchanged a meaningful glance. "You don't believe me, do you?" The little man sighed. "I was never very good at making it up on the spot, but no matter, because I really was just looking for you." He was staring at Dean.

Suddenly a shotgun blast erupted behind them and one of the hunters dropped. Before the other two could react, the cowboys were on them, each with a sawed-off shotgun. Nothing for the hunters to do but freeze and wait as their guns were removed and tossed onto the bar. The bartender came out from behind as two more men appeared from the bathroom. They all had black eyes.

"Oh, Dean, it's been too long. You've gotten rusty. I mean I've heard so many good things, but here you are! Just walked right into the hornets' nest." The little man, now displaying his own black eyes, turned to Bobby. "Well, I guess I don't need you anymore." He waved his hand and Bobby went sailing across the room.

Dean started for the demon knife hidden under his pants' leg, but they were too fast. Two suddenly had him by the arms, and as the little man started in on him, breaking his nose on the first swing, Dean silently kicked himself for making Enoch wait in the car.

"You know, my orders were only to kill you, the mythical Dean Winchester! But I guess it's my lucky day, because not only do I get you, but four hunters as well. You should have stayed hidden, boy." Another swing, this time to the ribs, cracking them. Blood came to Dean's mouth and the other demons laughed. "So how do you want it? I could, uh, slit your throat? Or rip your heart out? What sounds good to you?" Dean mumbled something unintelligible and the little man leaned closer to hear, which was just what Dean was hoping for.

"Why don't you surprise me?" He spat blood into the demon's eyes, which recoiled yelling in rage. The ploy was not meant to save him. Dean just wanted to spit in one more demon's face before he died. The pummeling started again, and all the lesser demons watched totally enthralled while the hunters looked on in disgust unable to help. Luckily they had all forgotten about Bobby, who was just then regaining consciousness.

He had landed near a window face down. His eyes opened and everything spun around him, but he knew where he was and he knew what was happening. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. It was not the first time a demon had tried to use him to find Dean, but it had been a while. He had gotten complacent and lazy. Slowly, he moved himself to the window, rose just enough to look through the curtains. Shafts of sunlight fell across his face and Bobby could see Enoch sitting straight and staring ahead in the front of the Impala. How to get her attention? He didn't have to think about it too long. He concentrated trying to think of something, anything to get her into the bar, and suddenly her head snapped in his direction. Her eyes seemed to lock onto him, though he knew she could not see him. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she was listening to something she didn't quite understand, and then she opened the passenger door and strode toward the front door. She seemed calm and casual.

Bobby sank to the floor as she entered. With one swing of her head she had taken in the situation. She had hoped that she had been wrong, but she had heard her name called. She had heard it in her head, and though she had promised Dean that she would not read his or Bobby's mind, she could not ignore the call.

"Let him go," she said. All the demons had dropped their black eyes and looked completely normal, but Enoch saw them for what they were. She could see their true faces, grotesque and evil.

"Who are you?" the little man shot at her.

"That is of no importance."

"Then what do you want with him?"

"He is… uh," She looked around searching for something to say that wouldn't give her away. If she could exorcise them without bloodshed she could save all their hosts, but she was too far away at the moment. She just needed to be a little closer. Suddenly a phrase came to her. She had only heard it once while she was watching the magic box. It was a human term and though she thought she was most likely going say it incorrectly and be made out, she decided to try anyway. She stepped forward with a new confidence and said clearly, "He is my boyfriend."

Dean coughed up some more blood. It was all he could do not to laugh. The little man motioned to one of the demons holding Dean, jerking his head as if to say, "Take care of her." The demon dropped Dean's arm and advanced on her. His host was a tall well built man. He would have been handsome if he wasn't full of evil. Enoch held her ground.

"Man, I wouldn't mess with her," Dean said half coherently. The remaining demon holding him punched him in the stomach. At this time the tall well built demon had reached Enoch.

"Don't worry, baby. I think it's time you changed up for a real man; I'll take care of you." He grabbed her shoulders. At the touch her eyes narrowed.

"You are touching me."

"Oh, he touched her," Dean said to the demon holding him. "Now you're fucked."

Enoch raised her foot and placed it squarely on her opponent's chest. She kicked out and sent him into the jukebox on the other side of the room. She raised her hand to the cross around her neck and touched it. Dean used the opportunity to break from his guard, pulling the knife and killing him. Dean then turned to the little man, but the look on the demon's face stopped him in his tracks. Dean had seen Demons scared, begging for their lives, begging not to be sent back to Hell. But he had never seen the expression this one had as he stared at Enoch. She was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet.

"What are you?" he gasped right before she threw him down.

One of the hunters finally reacted throwing a flask of holy water in the face of one of the remaining demons. It screamed and the shotgun rang out widely. The sound brought Dean out of his head and he went to work with his knife. Enoch was clearly fine with the boss, so he went to help the unarmed hunters. The remaining demons were dispatched or ran from their hosts. When all was done Dean turned to see Enoch still standing over the little man. He squirmed still frightened. There was a quick flash as she produced a small knife and carved something into the palm of her hand.

"Stand," she ordered and the demon complied. Standing before her he trembled and seemed so much smaller than he once had. She pulled back her arm as if to punch him, but at the last second she opened her hand hitting him full in the chest with her bloody palm. Her arm seemed to go straight through him pushing out a cloud of black smoke. The cloud hung there for a second before disappearing in a dark flash like a match being struck. The little man's body, now released from the demonic presence, started to fall back, but Enoch caught him and gently lowered him to the floor.

"What did you just do?" Dean asked coming to her. She opened her palm revealing a pentagram with several other Enochian symbols.

"Blood magic," she explained. "Exorcises and kills demons without killing the host." She seemed a little winded. "You look awful," she said looking at his broken and bloodied face.

"Yeah, I was surprised."

"Clearly. May I help you now?" He nodded and she walked around him to place a hand on his back healing his broken bones. He turned to thank her, but before he could get a word out there was another blam from a shot gun. Enoch lurched forward, her face a mask of complete surprise.

"Are you alright?" Dean stepped forward to catch her, but she caught herself and put a hand out to stop him. Then she straightened, her expression changing to obvious anger. One of the hunters stood behind her, gun up and aimed. He trembled slightly as she turned to glare at him. With her back to him, Dean could see the damage the blast had done. The buckshot had torn through the hoodie and t-shirt, but otherwise had done little more. She turned back to him suddenly.

"Why are humans shooting at me?" she hissed through clenched teeth. Dean really didn't know what to tell her, but then again he didn't really have time. The hunter filled in the silence.

"She's not right. She's a monster." Enoch started toward him, but Dean grabbed her arm.

"Calm down, he doesn't understand."

"He ruined my shirt. I liked this shirt."

"We'll get you a new shirt."

She breathed out sharply still glaring at the hunter. "Very well." She shrugged Dean off and started toward the back of the bar. As she passed the nervous hunter, she leaned in close to him. "I am forbidden to kill humans as of right now. Count your blessings."

"Where are you going?" Bobby, now on his feet and next the Dean, called after her.

"I am going to spit up buckshot in the restroom." With that she stalked off.

Bobby reeled on the two hunters. "I have never seen anyone so stupid," he said. These hunters were young and obviously not too experienced. Even so, most hunters knew nothing of angels; some didn't even believe they existed. But she had helped them. Without her timely appearance they all might have been dead. A bullet hole to the back was a fine thank you.

"You saw what she did," the hunter shot back. "That's not just some normal girl. What is she? Vampire? Shifter?"

"Never you mind, just get your stuff and get the hell out of here."

"Alright, we'll leave, but I know who you are. I heard the demon. Dean Winchester, huh? You're like a legend, man, and you're hanging around with that thing?" Dean just shook his head tired of this guy. He never had a lot of patience and his year out of the game did nothing to make it better. Right now, there was nothing he would have liked more than to punch this guy in the face. "Hey, just fair warning. We'll leave but if we see her again, we're going to hunt her and kill her."

This made Dean laugh a little, "Yeah, good luck with that." The hunters went about the grim task of collecting their fallen comrade and left with no more argument. As their car pulled away, Dean and Bobby stood over the body of one of the dead demons. "They're coming after me again, huh?"

"I don't think they ever stopped," Bobby retorted. "But what I don't understand is why they don't go for you directly. Have you seen any demon sign during the past year?" Dean silently shook his head.

"That is because they can't find you, Dean Winchester. You were being protected." Enoch had emerged from the bathroom. "While you were with Lisa Braeden, you were being watched and hidden."

"That's comforting," Dean said.

"Unfortunately, now that you are out they will be able to find you."

"I thought whatever is carved into my bones hides me."

"It does hide you from us knowing where you are, but there are other ways to find someone. I think these demons were trackers. Demonic blood hounds, stupid and bloodthirsty, but effective. They probably thought Bobby knew where you were and would have tortured him until he told them."

"How did they know about you walking out of that funeral home?" Bobby asked.

"They did not know. They could not have. That may have been a coincidence."

"Demons read a newspaper, find a strange story, something that a hunter might be interested in," Dean mused, "Could happen." He stood bringing his full attention to Enoch. "You scared the shit out of them. It's like they thought you were human. Why didn't they know you were an angel?"

She touched the cross around her neck. "It is an amulet. It hides my true form until I choose to reveal myself, or do something angel…ish. It is very rare."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" Bobby grumbled. "Come on; let's get out of here before someone turns up looking for a beer."

"What about him?" Enoch asked pointing to the little man. "I will not leave him here." It was clear that it would be no use to argue with her, so in the end it was decided that Bobby would take him to the hospital and meet Dean and Enoch back at his house. On the way the Impala stopped in front of a small shop and Dean passed Enoch a credit card.

"Go get some clothes. Don't talk to anyone. Don't try to kill anyone. Then take this card and pay for the clothes. Do you understand?" He talked as if he was speaking to child, but Enoch did not seem to notice. She nodded.

"This card is currency?" she asked studying the little form of plastic. "Odd."

"You don't know much about Earth, do you?"

"Earth, yes. People, no. Understand the last time I was on Earth, salt was currency."

"Just give them the card and it will work, promise."

"What will you do?"

"I'm going to call Cas again."

"Very well," she opened the door, but hesitated. "Do not wander off." She left the car as Dean dialed. No answer. He waited for the beep.

"Hey, it's me again. Listen, something is going on and I have this… uh," he debated whether or not he should openly talk about Enoch. He decided not. "This girl with me, telling me some crazy stuff, and I'm thinking that you might be the only one that could make sense of it. Man, I need your help. Call me." Since Castiel had returned to Heaven, Dean had not spoken to him. There were nights in the last year that he wish he could have though. However he had never picked up the phone. It was the same with Bobby. He missed them. A part of him missed his old life; the hunting as well as all the friendships he had lost. There were nights when he missed it all, but mostly he missed Sam. He looked down at his phone and wondered if after all this time and all that had happened, would Castiel even be able to hear his messages, and if he did hear them, would he even answer.

His thoughts were broken as Enoch returned to the car. She was now dressed in boots, jeans, ¾ sleeved t-shirt, and toting a black jacket. Everything fit much better and Dean had a fleeting thought resembling those he had when he first clamped eyes on her.

"Feel better?"

"No, I have just been shot in the back."

"Yeah, but it didn't hurt you."

"Me no, but I can only protect my vessel so much. Since I cannot currently transit realms my healing is slowed."

"Transit realms?"

"You may have noticed times when angels seem to disappear?"

He sighed, "Yeah, I'm familiar."

"That happens when we cross the border of reality as you know it. We are able to travel vast distances in short time, and the process heals us. Unfortunately, that ability has been denied me so that I may interact with you more."

"Why would you need to interact with me?"

"Would you have trusted me if I had not?"

"I don't even know if I trust you now. But either way, if we're doing this… thing… that we're doing, you at least seem to be useful in a fight. You're a pretty tough chick."

"Chick?"

"Oh, you know, girl."

"Girl?"

"Yeah, girl. You're a girl." She looked at him blankly. "Female?"

"Oh." She looked down at herself. "That would explain much."

"I really thought I would never meet anyone more socially clueless than Cas, but here you are."

"I have never used a vessel before. So I have never been a girl before."

"Are you telling me that in Heaven with all your little angel friends you don't have male and female?"

"We do not see things the same as you. Different sexes and such… well… it is complicated. May I just say that it is an angel thing and leave it there?"

"Sure, sure, but if you never had a vessel, then how did you come to Earth before?"

"It was different then, people had more faith and could see us better, accept our presence. But now…"

"Now people go blind just by looking at you." Enoch turned to him with an incredulous expression. "That happened to a friend of mine," he explained. "Isn't that what would happen if I saw your true form or something?"

"Me? No, you would not go blind. It would most definitely drive you insane, but you would still have your sight. Every angel is different."

"This is a strange learning experience."

"For me as well, Dean Winchester."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean blinked away his sleep. Sunlight fell across his face, but he was sure that it was still early in the morning. It had been two days since the incident at the bar. They had arrived back at Bobby's house and were there for no more than an hour when Dean received the long awaited phone call. However it was a strange conversation. In the past Castiel would simply appear when called, but this time he seemed cryptic and distracted. And even more strange he had told Dean to meet him in two days time three states away, at a bus station, and then hung up. After a short and fruitless conversation with Bobby, where they both tried to make conjectures on what the hell was exactly going on, he and Enoch packed and left.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and was met by the now familiar sight of Enoch sitting straight in a chair and staring out the window. Without turning her head she said clearly, "Good morning." It was accentually emotionless, but coming from her it sounded downright cheerful. The last two days had been good between the two. They were finding it easier to talk to each other, and Dean had found an inkling of trust, but the night before had not gone well.

Spending more time with Enoch had made something very apparent to him and as they sat together in the hotel room the night before, Dean had a couple of beers, and decided to bring it up.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"You have a bit of a temper, don't you?"

She looked at him guiltily. "Yes, I try to hide it. We angels are taught to control our emotions, so as not to be hindered by them, like humans are, but for all my years and experience, I have never mastered my temper."

"How old are you?"

"Old… I was one of the first. So I suppose very old."

"Well, you look good for your age." Her vessel couldn't be more than twenty seven, or twenty eight. For her to call herself old was strange.

"So you were around when the Earth was created?"

"No, I am not that old, thank you."

"Ok, what about when man was created?"

"Maybe not how you think, but I do remember that. It was a very good day."

"And you were around when Lucifer was banished and hell was made."

"That was a very bad day." That made Dean laugh a little.

"What does God look like?" Enoch turned toward him somewhat confused and a little shocked by the audacity question.

"I do not know."

"I thought the Seraphim attended God. You can't tell me you never saw him."

"Oh," she nodded. "I see. You should do your research a little more. Two of my six wings cover my eyes. I can perceive him in a way, but it is not as if God has a face like you do."

"Conversations with angels kind of suck, you know. You guys never have a straightforward answer to anything."

"My apologies. Tomorrow we will see Castiel and then may continue on with our task. Perhaps we will both get the answers we are looking for."

"That is another question, actually. Why do you need his help? I mean don't get me wrong, Cas is a great guy to have in your corner, but you're this big time uber-angel. Kind of strange that you would need anyone's help."

"Being Seraphim does not necessarily mean that I am stronger or more powerful than other angels, but I must admit I am as confused as you. I cannot foresee how an inferior will be of much use."

Dean was visibly taken aback. Enoch didn't seem to notice. "Inferior?" he asked.

"Inferior, yes." He scowled at her and she mistook it as a sign of confusion. "He is of lower rank, and a subordinate. Plus taking into consideration his recent history of disobedience, he is definitely not what I would consider an appropriate choice for this mission. I am not even sure why he was brought back into the fold."

"You do realize that's my friend you're talking about, right?"

"Your friend? Not your ally, not your comrade in arms? Your friend?"

"Yeah."

"One does not really hear such a thing often. But be that as it may, Castiel is somewhat unqualified to assist. He may end up be more of a hindrance than anything else. An Arch-Angel would have been of more use."

"Maybe God realized that all his Arch-Angels are just a bunch of douche bags. Have you ever even met Castiel?"

"No."

"Because you have a pretty clear opinion of a guy you never even met before."

"His actions have told me all I need to know."

"I don't believe it! And I had such high hopes for you. You seemed a little different, you know. But you're just like the rest of them."

"What are you talking about?"

"Angels. That's what I'm talking about. Castiel is the only one that I ever met that is worth a damn. The rest of you –"

"You are agitated."

"You bet your feathery ass, I'm agitated. God sent an angelic snob to pal around with me. It's pretty damn aggravating."

"I am not saying that he was not a good soldier. His merits are many, but the fact remains that he disobeyed his orders and turned his back on Heaven."

"Has it occurred to you that if he hadn't we might be ass deep in the Apocalypse right now?"

"I am aware."

"Yeah, but it's all black and white for you guys, isn't it? I know, let's take a tally of all the good angels. All the obedient angels out there. Michael: sitting in a box in hell. Zach: Dead. The last time I saw Raphael, his ass was sitting in the middle of holy fire. Gabriel ran away from you guys, but ended up dying anyway. Anna ripped her grace out and became human because she couldn't stand it, but that wasn't good enough for Heaven. No! She was dragged back there, and turned into some kind of crazy bitch, and… oh yeah, died. Here you are, uber-angel, but that doesn't really amount to much when you think about it."

"That is unfair."

"Oh wait, I forgot one. Uriel. Dead. You should have known him, as I remember you were both in the same business. Wiping out entire cities without a care. You and Uriel could have been best friends."

He didn't know how it happened, but she was suddenly on him. Impossibly fast, she had him by the collar. She slammed him against the wall, knocking the beer out of his hand and the breath out of his chest.

"Don't you ever compare me to him," she yelled into his face. "Uriel killed his own kind in cold blood. He is a murderer." He glared at her, that familiar defiance in his eyes.

"If the shoe fits." She slammed him against the wall again and then dropped him.

"That is not me, it was never like that. It was never supposed to be like that." Her voice wandered off as she paced the room. She turned sharply toward him, and Dean had the fleeting, horrible feeling that he might have to defend himself against her. He climbed to his feet as quick as he could, trying to ready himself for a rush, but she just sighed and seemed to struggle against tears. "I was not created to be a Battlefield Angel, or a destroyer of worlds. I was a Principality, a teacher. I was to teach humans of the great wisdom of Heaven." He stared at her still not convinced that she wasn't going to attack, but she simply sank onto the bed. Dean relaxed a bit. He could see in her eyes that she was remembering something. Something bad. "It was my penitence," she whispered averting her eyes.

"What happened?"

She breathed in deeply, preparing herself. She had never had to put it all into words.

"I and a selection of my brethren were chosen to descend to Earth and bestow our knowledge to a certain man. He was a good man, brilliant and kind; and he took in everything we gave him so easily. We each had our subject to teach; mathematics, arts, sciences, everything. But it was more for me. This man and I became close. He became my friend… and I betrayed him. I was supposed to teach him strategies and the art of battle so the faithful could defend themselves from those that wished them harm."

"But you didn't," Dean nodded his understanding.

"No, I did. I did what I was told. It was my duty, but I underestimated human will. It was not long after we had ascended that the faithful were striking out at those around them. Using what I had given to wipe out others. Sometimes they fought in the name of their kings or countries, but then sometimes… sometimes they used the name of God to destroy one another." Her eyes came back to his in an intense glare. "Dean Winchester, I taught your kind how to war."

"You didn't know."

"And that fact is the only thing that saved me from the pit. Instead I was demoted, I guess. To redeem myself, I would have to be present on the battlefields destroying all those touched by the evil I had unleashed."

"Shit, E. That's your job?"

"Only for a hundred thousand years. Would have been less, but it turned out that I was actually very good at wiping out human life. When things changed, when God became a little less vengeful and a little more loving, he decided to take a step back from the wars of man, and suddenly I was without a job. That is when I was elevated to Seraphim. It was my reward for my faith and obedience." A silence stretched out between them. Dean felt terrible for antagonizing her. He, better than most, understood how she felt about her past. She could have been something different, should have been, but was turned into a killer.

Suddenly he laughed.

"I'm sorry, but this just kills me. Here you are, THE angel, you know. One of the top celestial beings and you still have baggage and daddy issues." She sighed and nodded.

"I do wish it was all true; the romanticized idea of angels that humans have. We are supposed to be these beautiful creatures with brilliant, glorious white wings. We are supposed to visit humans and give them mercy and love, but we are nothing like that. You know, if an angel appears, you may very well be doomed. It is all a lie."

"I wouldn't say that. It's not all a lie." Dean sat next to her. "You are beautiful, and I bet you do have a great set of wings." Enoch laughed. It wasn't a musical sound. It wasn't like bells or a lovely hymn. It was just an honest, almost human, laugh.

Now, in the light of morning, they both saw each other a little different. He was no longer just her mission, a means to get back to Heaven, and she was no longer just an ass that showed up on his front porch and destroyed his happiness.

"You seem weird this morning, like happy or something." He said sitting up and stretching.

"I took a shower."

"What?"

"I noticed last night that when unable to transit realms, vessels begin to smell. So I took a shower. It was intriguing."

"What time is it?"

"Seven twenty three in the AM and 45 seconds… now."

"Cas said to meet him at ten, so I think that leaves us time for breakfast."

A half hour later they were both sitting in a booth at Flo's Diner. It was a twenty-four-hour kind of joint, with an over the top fifties motif. Enoch sat quietly as Dean drank his coffee and addressed the waitress. She stared at everything around her moving her head from side to side like some kind of bird.

"I'll have the special," Dean glanced at Enoch with an uncertain look, "and she is going to have the pancake breakfast." The waitress smiled as she wrote, gave him a little wink, called him 'suga,' and left. As she walked away Enoch leaned forward.

"I do not eat."

"Well today you are."

"Why? It is unnecessary."

"Sometimes doing unnecessary things is what it's all about. You'll like it, trust me."

Her eyes narrowed uncertain, but she didn't say another word about it. Instead she decided to continue her silent observations. This was fine with Dean, he had the makings of a headache and a little quiet would be nice. He figured they had done enough talking the night before. So he occupied himself with the local newspaper for a while until he heard a low "hmmmm…" Lowering the paper, Enoch's expression was almost laughable. She was staring past him, eyebrows furrowed and head cocked to one side. He could almost see the wheels turning.

"Problem?"

"How prevalent are vampires in your culture?"

"Not a lot, why?"

Enoch, still staring, pointed over his shoulder. "That girl seems to be devouring that boy's face and no one is taking issue." Dean jerked around ready for blood and gore, but saw instead two teenagers, who obviously had been out all night, making out in a corner booth. He turned back around with a grumpy sigh.

"First of all, don't point. It's rude. And second, they're just making out. Kissing, you know, not really a big deal."

"This pressing your face to another's, this is common?"

"Yes." He was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"What is its purpose?"

"I don't know, E. To show affection. People usually do it to other people they like."

"Do it to others they like?" She was trying to make a connection in her head, trying to understand something so very human. "So you and Castiel kiss regularly."

"What!" His exclamation came out along with a mouth full of coffee. "No! Why… what…, I mean…why would you even go there in your mind?"

"Last night you said that Castiel was your friend. Do you not like your friends?"

Dean's hands came to his face. His headache was getting worse. "Not like, like that. Cas is my friend so yeah, I like him. But you don't kiss people you like; you kiss people you like _like._" Enoch cocked an eyebrow at him fully convinced he was simply talking nonsense. But then she made the connection.

"Oh! A prelude to procreation." She was quite happy with herself.

"That's what I love about you, E. You're a romantic. It doesn't always end up in 'procreation,' but yeah, you get the drift."

"If there is no guarantee of procreation, then why do it at all? What kind of purpose would such a thing have if-"

"Hey, you know what! Let's just say it's a human thing and leave it there." She nodded and sat back thinking. Suddenly her face broke into a half smile.

"Your kind is fascinating. I have always thought so and being here again, reminds me of why I was so eager to come the first time."

"This a vacation for you?"

"Hardly, but for the last two thousand plus years, I have only known my fellow Seraphim and God. It is one thing to know in your head every creature to ever roam Earth; it is another being among it all."

"You've only been around four other people for the last two thousand years?"

"Two thousand plus."

"That just… I mean, that just sucks. Not even other angels?"

"No, but life as a Seraphim does not, as you say… suck. It is a gift and privilege." She made a valiant effort, but something in her eyes convinced Dean that she did not totally believe that comment. Perhaps he would have pushed the issue if the food hadn't arrived at that moment. The plates were put down in front of them each smelling of delicious breakfast goodness, but Enoch stared at hers with a dubious expression.

"You alright? You know what all that is?"

"Yes. Pig fat, unfertilized chicken embryos, and-"

"No, it's bacon, scrambled eggs and pancakes." He picked up the syrup dispenser and poured a good amount over her pancakes. "Eat, you'll thank me later."

By 9:50 Dean and Enoch were walking across a courtyard in the center of a large bus station. The throng of people seemed to unnerve Enoch a little. She stayed close to Dean, for him at times uncomfortably close, and kept her hands firmly in her pockets. She followed Dean to the center of the courtyard where he suddenly stopped and started to look around in circles.

"What are you looking for?" Enoch asked as he stepped up on a bench to get a better view.

"A nerd in a trench coat."

"I do not know what that means."

Dean ignored her, still searching. She stepped back, venturing away from him. The interaction of so many was fascinating. A man in a pen striped suit brushed past her in a rush mumbling "excuse me" under his breath. A college student walked by with his headphones playing loudly; she followed him a little trying to hear clearly the song he was listening to, but she was quickly distracted by a vending cart full of tourist nick-knacks. Enoch picked up a postcard with a picture of a sunset over a beach. She sighed and replaced the postcard and as she looked up, a little boy holding his mother's hand caught her eye. He was sucking his thumb and standing as close to his mother as possible. He stared up at her intently almost as in awe, then popped the thumb from his mouth and waved. She waved back awkwardly and turned to walk back.

Dean had not been successful in spotting Castiel. "I don't see him, how about you?" No answer. He looked down to his side, but found that Enoch had gone. "Great," he said jumping down from the bench. Now he had two angels to find. He glanced down at his watch. Ten A.M. on the dot.

"Alright Castiel, where are you?"

"Here," Dean jumped startled and turned toward that gruff familiar voice. Castiel stood close behind him. "Hello, Dean." He wasn't looking at Dean, instead his eyes darted back a forth scanning the crowd.

"Hey, uh, good to see you. Kind of hard to get a hold of you."

"I've been busy."

"With what?" Castiel's eyes for the first time focused on Dean with a strange intensity.

"War," and with that he returned to his scanning.

"What are you doing?"

"Tracking."

"Tracking what?"

"Not what, who. Another angel, a criminal. Dean, I don't think you called me just to make small talk. You said you needed my help."

"Uh right," Dean quickly looked around for Enoch and spotted her, standing very still, staring off. "One sec." He went to her and grabbed her by the arm. "What are you doing?"

She gently pulled her arm from his grasp and pointed. He followed her gaze and saw a young couple across the courtyard. It was hard to tell if they were saying good-bye or hello, but they were saying it passionately.

"This again?" he sighed.

"They have been touching each other and pressing their faces together for about five minutes now." The couple decided that they were done kissing and walked away hand in hand. "Why does your kind constantly touch? It is rather… baffling."

"Look, you gotta stop this. You're turning into a voyeur and it's creeping me out. Come on." She pulled her gaze away and followed him back to Castiel, who had not budged. "Okay," Dean said coming up to him. "This is what I called you about; this is E."

Castiel glanced at her up and down uninterested and then returned to his search. "Hello."

"That's it?" Dean asked confused.

"What would you like me say? I don't understand why you want to introduce me to your new girlfriend."

"She's not my new- What are you…" he turned to Enoch. "What's going on?"

"My camouflage is still activated."

"Well, turn it off and help me out here," He hissed at her.

Castiel was not paying attention to them, but suddenly put a hand up to silence them. "Excuse me, I have to go."

"What?"

"I found him." He was gone.

"Damn it, where the hell," Dean exclaimed looking around. Enoch pointed with an out stretched arm.

"He is across the courtyard, chasing another angel. I cannot see who, but I think-"Her face suddenly fell. "Oh no." Without warning she was off running in the direction she was pointing. Dean stood completely dumbfounded shaking his head. He lifted his eyes to the sky.

"Why?"

He took off after Enoch, but found it hard to keep up with her. She was faster than him, but also she was smaller and more nimble, weaving in and out of the crowd easily. But he could see her dark ponytail bobbing up and down and continued to charge forward until she disappeared through a door. When Dean came upon it he could see that she had pulled it hard enough to smash the lock.

On the other side, a hallway and a series of utility offices stretched out before him. The hallway made an abrupt turn, from where the muffled sounds of struggle could be heard. Dean decided that it might be prudent to go about this cautiously. The metal detector at the front entrance of the bus terminal made it impossible for him to carry any kind of weapon that would be worth a damn in this situation.

He crossed the length of the hallway as quietly as he could and as he turned the corner he saw that in fact Castiel was fighting with another guy, presumably another angel. Cas's nose was bloodied and he was looking somewhat more disheveled than usual, but the other guy didn't look too good either. They were tangled together, each with their daggers at the ready. With a swift kick to the stomach the other angel disarmed Castiel and the blade went skidding across the floor to Enoch's feet. She was standing a little ways off with distress covering her face watching the goings on.

Dean moved to help, but he was too late. Castiel threaded a foot under his opponent's and threw him to the ground effectively pinning him and successfully wrestling the dagger from his grasp. Castiel raised it high for his final strike, but just then Enoch sprang into action. She grabbed his arm and pulled him off the other.

Castiel was completely surprised. He threw her off causing Enoch to fall, sprawling across the floor, but by the time he had turned back the other angel had escaped. He gritted his teeth and grred in frustration. He rounded on the girl but she had already gotten to her feet and was waiting for him. She was smaller than he, but her infuriated glare bore into him.

"That was very stupid," he said advancing on her. She came at him with matching fury.

"I agree. What did you think you were doing? You could have killed him."

"That was the idea. You have no idea what you have just done. You've meddled into things you cannot begin to understand."

"You would be surprised at what I can and cannot understand; perhaps you should explain yourself."

Castiel raised the dagger. "I do not explain myself to you."

The blade hovered inches from her nose, but Enoch's glare did not flinch. "Stand down, soldier." Her voice was a clear threat. His eyes narrowed angry and now somewhat confused. "I said, stand down." She punched each word like a physical blow.

Dean had watched the whole encounter in a state of mild shock. He had seen angel fights before, but never thought Enoch would stop Castiel. As they started to yell at each other, he hesitated to interfere. He had only seen Cas that angry once before and in that instance Dean himself had been the target of the fury and that had ended with him beaten unconscious. However, watching the two of them staring each other down, his two celestial allies, Dean knew he had to step in.

He approached them all the time telling them to cool down, but they were too involved in yelling at each other to bother to notice him. As he neared he realized that he couldn't understand anything they were saying. Their arguments came out like gibberish to his ears and they weren't responding to any of his words so he decided to go about this in a different way.

"Hey!" he exclaimed in his most authoritative voice. At the same time he stuck his hands in both of their faces snapping loudly. It effectively brought them out of their argument and to his attention. "I don't know what either of you are saying." In her anger Enoch had reverted in Enochian and Castiel had responded in the like without either noticing. "What the hell is going on?"

"That was Forcus. I have been tracking him for a while now." Castiel moved away to retrieve the discarded angel knife.

"Why?" Dean asked following.

"Heaven has fallen into chaos and split into two factions. It was recently discovered that Forcus was in fact loyal to the opposing side."

"You mean like a spy?"

"Yes. He singlehandedly killed five of my brothers, then ran. I've been tracking him since and finally had him, but now…" He turned to Enoch, "It was all for naught."

She did not register his disdainful look though. She was looking away her hand over her mouth. It looked like she had just been hit in the stomach. "He killed them?" Her eyes rose to meet Castiel's. "I am sorry." And then she lifted her face higher and repeated. "I am sorry."

Castiel leaned to Dean and said still angry, "Who is she; why did you ask me here?"

"E," Dean broke her from her trance. "Show him."

Miserably she touched the cross around her neck and though Dean could see no difference, it was clear that Castiel did. He took a shocked step back, not quite believing what he was seeing. It took a moment for him to come to terms with the sight of a Seraphim, but as his brain caught up he remembered himself and quickly averted his eyes.

"I, uh, my apologies. I was not aware," he said to her.

"No need; it was not you that allowed a murderer to escape."

"If I may," he ventured. "Why are you on Earth?"

"God sent me."

"God? Where is he?"

She hesitated.

"Has he not returned?" Castiel shook his head. "I had assumed he had. I do not know where he is. He had sent me away some time ago."

He turned away disappointed.

"Uh, Cas, we really need to talk." Dean said.

"I agree," he said. "But not here and not now. Forcus is injured and weakened. I may be able to still find him."

"So you'll meet us later?" Dean asked.

"Yes," then he was gone.

Dean hated that. It was one good thing about Enoch. At least she wouldn't be able to just flit away whenever she felt like it. They decided to go back to the hotel to wait for Castiel. The rest of the day turned out to be a quiet one. It was clear to him that Enoch felt very guilty for what she did, and was so preoccupied by it that she would only give him one word answers. But how do you comfort an angel who royally screwed up and knew it?

By the time Castiel returned, it had grown very dark and Dean had fallen asleep. Enoch sat quietly on the floor with her legs folded under her watching the TV intently. It was showing the movie, The Quiet Man, an old John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara flick. It was the iconic scene between the two where John Wayne's character tames the fiery tempered redhead with a forceful kiss. Enoch's eyebrows furrowed as she thought that the behavior didn't seem quite right. The female had not even given him permission to touch her. With a sigh she clicked off the TV and said to herself, "Humans are very strange."

"You get used to them." She tilted her head toward the corner of the room. It was Castiel standing in the shadows. She stood to her full height to face him, but he averted his eyes again and walked to Dean's side, shaking him. Dean awoke with a shot. Seeing Cas, he relaxed a little.

"Took you long enough," he said rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Forcus was smarter than I thought. Took a while."

"Did you get him?"

"Yes."

There was a silent pause… "Alright," Dean said. "Well, I guess there is a lot of explaining to do."

For the next three hours Dean and Castiel told each other that had happened over the past year. Castiel told Dean of the war raging in Heaven between those who wish to negate all that the Winchester brothers and their compatriots had done and bring about the Apocalypse again, and those fighting against the chaos; and Dean told Castiel all that had happened with Enoch; how she showed up, the mission from God, and their need of his help.

"I'm a little busy right now." Castiel finally said.

"Sounds like it, but it seems like whatever this is, we can't do it without you. And this is for Sam, you know. If there is a chance to get him out of there, we gotta take it."

"It's not that easy, Dean, I can't just drop everything and go off with you."

"We're not exactly asking that. I'm just asking that you're there when I need you."

"I can't guarantee anything-"

"Come on," Dean interjected. "You know that if it were the other way around Sam would be there for you." This made Castiel hesitate. He knew that was true. Both Dean and Sam had helped him and Heaven just as much as he helped them. They were his friends. "Think about it for a sec. I have to pee."

As he walked to the bathroom he caught the eye of Enoch who had been sitting on the edge of the bed the whole time. He had almost forgotten about her as she had not spoken a word for hours. He thought that perhaps he shouldn't leave the two alone for fear of another fight, but he thought better of it. Instead he simply shot her a look as if to tell her to behave herself.

The two angels sat silently in the dim room for a beat before Castiel spoke up.

"You feel guilty about what happened earlier today."

"Yes," Enoch said.

"You needn't be. He did not get far before I found him again."

"That is not why I feel guilty. I had no doubt that you would find him. I feel guilty because God gave me few instructions, one of which was to trust you, and I did not." The silence returned. Enoch staring at Castiel and him staring at the floor. "Would it be easier for you to look me in the eye if I were to activate my camouflage?"

"It is mandated not to look upon Seraphim."

"That is mandated in Heaven. We are not in Heaven and from what you have said the rules there do not seem to be worth much anymore. After all, you have broken heavenly mandate before." Castiel slowly raised his stare to meet hers.

More silence.

"I had started to think God had died, or had abandoned us."

"I know," she hesitated slightly before finishing her thought. "He knows."

At that moment Dean appeared from the bathroom. He didn't hesitate at all, but simply stood in front of Castiel.

"Well?"

Castiel sighed standing to meet Dean eye to eye. "Of course I will help you."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Enoch. "This good with you?" She nodded. "What now?"

"Now you give me some time." She stood and crossed to the door grabbing her coat on the way. "I must find holy ground, and receive more instructions." With that she was gone. The moment the door closed behind her, Castiel rounded on Dean.

"Do you know what she is?"

"Ah, yeah, kind of. Seraphim, right?"

"She is more than that. She is somewhat of a legend, the perfect example of obedience. Do you know anything of her past?"

Dean nodded. "She told me. It was a real fairy tale kind of story. How rare is it for Seraphim to come to Earth?"

"It's never happened before. Why did he send her?"

"Great question, unfortunately no one has an answer, not even E. You're not kidding about the obedience thing. According to her, she was told to find me and she just did. She doesn't even really know why."

"But you trust her?"

"Should I? I mean, you tell me, she's your family."

"No. Seraphim are not like other angels; they're not seen the same. They are not our brothers or sisters."

"So you've got nothing to tell me."

"I can tell you this," Cas became very serious, his voice carrying the weight of a warning. "If what I have heard of her is true, and she is in fact sent here by God, you can be sure that she will do whatever he tells her no matter what it is."

Silence fell as Dean contemplated what that statement implied. Then his phone rang. Looking down at the little screen, he cracked a smile.

"It's Lisa, I gotta take this."

"Very well," Castiel replied. "I should return to Heaven anyway."

"Hey," Dean suddenly said turning to him. "It's nice to have you around again."

Castiel didn't say anything in reply; he just locked Dean in a stare that was either fond affection or pure annoyance, and then was gone; the quiet sound of flapping wings heralding his departure.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean fell asleep thinking of Lisa which was both comforting and cruel, and his dreams reflected that. He woke expecting to be in his bed that he shared with her. Half asleep, he reached out looking for soft, warm skin, but instead found cold emptiness. Shaking his head, the hotel room focused in his view. A dark female form sat on the corner of the bed, her back to him. Long dark hair was swept over one shoulder.

"Lisa?" He said, it came out think and lazy, and she turned to him. Alarming green eyes met his own.

"No, I am sorry." It was Enoch; he saw that now clearly and felt foolish in mistaking the two women. "I have been waiting for you to awaken."

"When did you get back?"

"A little over an hour ago. We are to go west. There is a town called Lancaster, there we will find a map."

Dean fell back on the bed shielding his eyes with his right arm his brain was not ready for this so early. "A map to what?"

"Lucifer's cage."

"I already know where it is. That abbey or in the cemetery in Lawrence."

"The cage is no longer in either of those locations. As a precaution the cage is designed to move randomly so as to deter anyone from opening it."

"Well, that worked well." Enoch recognized the sarcasm. She ignored it. Looking down at him she could see the angry, red handprint scared over his shoulder, and suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was shirtless. She quickly looked away.

"There is a kind of map that tracks the location of the cage. We will need it, if we wish to… spring your brother."

Dean sighed loudly. "Alright, get the map, got it." He rolled off the bed retrieving a t-shirt. "So where exactly is it. I mean how do we find it?"

"I do not know." He raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged. "I was told that when we saw it, we will know." Dean shook his head and laughed as he picked up his toothbrush.

"Who gives you these instructions? Because they suck."

"God."

He laughed again a little harder, but when she turned to him he could see that she was being quite literal. He spit out some toothpaste. "God? Really?"

"Who else?"

Dean had to agree with the logic. Who else would give the highest rank of angels their orders? There only seemed to be one possible answer. Maybe he would ask Cas about that later. He pushed the thought out of his mind for the present and finished with his teeth. "Alright let's get outta here. We'll get breakfast on the way."

Enoch turned around to face him again. "Pancakes?" She asked a bit of enthusiasm edging her voice.

"Yeah, we'll see."

It took six hours to get to Lancaster and it turned out to be something more than the small town that Dean had been expecting. The next four days were spent going to every museum, school, cemetery, church, and any other place that might house an ancient map. Their search was fruitless. On the fifth day both Dean and Enoch had reached the limit of their frustration. Enoch continually cursed her earthbound vessel and Dean had almost stopped talking altogether in a volume lower than a yell. Enoch had decided that she had had enough and tried asking God for help. Coming back to the hotel room she found Dean with his laptop buried in newspapers.

He could tell by the look on her face that her efforts had not worked. God was not talking. She threw her coat across the room and fell back on the bed staring up at the ceiling fan miserably.

"We must be missing something. We should retrace our steps."

"You've been doing that for the last two days and haven't found anything."

"Then we should do it again until we find the map."

"Looking where we've already looked isn't going to help."

Enoch shot up off the bed. "I do not hear any better ideas coming from you." She yelled at him.

"That's because I thought when we saw it we would know it, right? I'm beginning to think we are the butt of God's crappy joke."

"Dean Winchester, I may not be allowed to kill you, but I will hurt you."

He threw down his paper so as to face her full on. "Hey don't think just because you look like a girl I won't kick your ass. I've done it before." They glared at each other, their angry frustration like electricity between them. Dean broke the stare, throwing his hands up. "Listen we are both annoyed that we can't find this damn map, but it happens, you know; and I can tell you there is only one way to get through it."

She eyed him wearily.

"And that is?"

"Hunting. How do you feel about beating the living hell out of some monsters?"

"What are you talking about?"

Dean waved her over, motioning to the newspapers. "I think I've found something strange. Yesterday there was an article about a girl dropped off in the middle of the night at a hospital. A car drove by and just shoved her out. It said she was mauled by a dog, see here's a picture of the bite." Enoch picked up the paper staring closely.

"That is not a dog bite." She agreed.

"That's right. That right there is a vampire bite."

"Do you think she turned?"

"No, apparently she died not too long after she showed up at the hospital. According to this, she had an unknown drug in her system. But here's the kicker," he pointed at the computer. "In the last year and a half there have been four other girls at two other hospitals that died the same way."

"Vampires?"

Dean shrugged, "We are sitting around with our thumbs up our asses, doing nothing but getting closer to killing each other every day. People are dying; I think we should look into this."

She stared down at the news article. A picture of a young blonde girl smiled up at her, but she was torn. She had been given her directions, her mission to follow, and she knew that to go off on a tangent would waste time. The cage would be moving at any moment perhaps farther away from them, but still the picture of the pretty girl, who was now no more, tugged at her.

"Very well." She finally said tossing the paper down. "I will follow your lead."

"Well, here's the thing. I can get into the police station, but not you."

"Are you asking me to wait in the car again? If you remember it did not end well last time."

"No, I'll handle the cops, you go to the morgue. See if you find out anything." Dean didn't really think she would be able to find much, but he had to give her something to do. She accepted the task though she wasn't very keen in leaving Dean on his own. She was, after all, supposed to stay by his side so as to protect him. He was able to convince her though.

Dean himself was very eager to work this job. How long had it been since he took on a vampire? And after the last couple of days he was in the mood to kill something. So clad in suit and tie with a fake FBI ID tucked in his jacket pocket, he walked into the local police station, feeling nothing but confidence. Flashing his badge at the front desk he stated his intention concerning the case, and a young, freckly police officer showed him to a small conference room. He paced it for a few minutes until an overweight detective shambled in.

"Agent Anderson," The detective greeted offering his hand. "Detective Morran."

Dean shook his hand. "Good to meet you. I've got a few questions concerning the Sarah Humbert case."

"Right," He gestured for Dean to sit opposite him. "I gotta tell you, I'm glad you guys are finally taking my reports seriously."

"Reports?"

The detective hesitated. "Yeah, I've been sending the FBI reports about a possible serial killer in Lancaster for months now. That's why you're here, right?"

"Oh, yeah, serial killer." Dean nodded and tried to look as reassuring as possible. It seemed to be enough.

"Good," Detective Morran said tossing down a pile of files. There were five in total, all the other cases that Dean had discovered online. "Here's all the information I've written about."

"Ah, right," Dean reached out and took the first file off the pile. "Just so I know we cover all the bases, why don't you take me through everything."

The detective sighed. "Five women in total. The first being from February of last year, and the last from just two weeks ago. All are in their mid-to-late twenties, all from out of town, all presented with a bite on their bodies. Now the coroners have described the bites as coming from dogs, but…" He spread out several pictures in front of Dean, each gruesome. "I've never seen a dog bite like that."

Dean had seen a bite like that, though, many times before. Each girl had one, like a red tag. One on her neck, another on her inner thigh, everyone in a different place. "Blood loss?"

"Yeah, some, but not enough to kill them. No, these girls were poisoned."

"The unknown drug?"

"Here," He handed Dean a tox report. He picked it up and stared down at it but couldn't make out what it meant. Numbers and abbreviations that didn't mean anything to him, but Dean wasn't about to let that be known. Instead he hummed and nodded. "You understand that?"

He shrugged and admitted, "Not a word."

"No one does. I can't find anyone who can identify what these girls were drugged with or how it was administrated, but it sure stopped their hearts quick enough." Dean looked down at the pictures and files again. When has a vampire ever bit a human and not drink them dry or turned them?

"Do you have any suspects?"

He shook his head, "Not a one. We thought we had a pretty good lead. It seemed that three of the five women were seen at a local night club a couple of nights before they died, but nothing came of it."

And there it was. A night club, the classic hunting grounds. A vampire finds a pretty, young girl, gets her drunk (or in this case slips her a weird ass roofie), and then lures her to the nest. Vampires were somewhat predictable, and Dean liked that. He thanked Detective Morran and asked if he could get copies of the case files. He had heard all he needed to know and a plan had already started to form in his mind.

When Dean returned to the hotel Enoch was there already waiting for him, like he thought she would be.

"No luck?" He asked losing the suit jacket and loosening his tie.

"No, they said I did not have the correct credentials, and I thought knocking them all unconscious would upset you, so I was unable to gather any information."

"You need to learn how to sweet talk people."

"What?"

"Sam could have taught you. He would just give them that puppy eyed bullshit, and they would give him anything he asked for." A strange sadness fell across his face just for a second before he continued. "You, though, all you have to do is probably wear a short skirt and that would be enough."

"I do not understand what the length of my garments has to do with questioning others." She stared at him confused and he simply smirked at her naivety.

"I take it back. You might need more than a short skirt. Doesn't matter anyway, I think I know our next move." He slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "We're going clubbing."

The night club ended up being little more than a bar next door to a popular hotel. The Impala parked across the street. It had been there all afternoon as Dean kept surveillance to Enoch's great annoyance.

"We have been here for hours. What do you expect to see, especially now that the sun has set?"

"I expect to see a vampire. Once I do, we can go get him."

"Vampires look exactly like humans from this distance."

"Yeah, but most of the time you can tell, well, I can tell." Enoch leafed through the case files again looking for a specific entry.

"Here it says that all these women arrived at this location between eight and nine o'clock and left before midnight. If the vampire is indeed in there, he would arrive early and be hunting as we speak."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No, I do not believe I will."

"Alright, we'll go in. After an afternoon with you, I need a drink anyway." Dean swung the door opened and exited feeling a little stiff from sitting so long. He stood to his full height to stretch and suddenly he was eye to eye with Castiel. "Hey, two steps away, remember?" Castiel looked down at his feet and took a tentative step backward. Dean didn't think he would ever get use to that. Why did angels have no sense of personal space? At least Enoch kept her distance in most cases. "What are you doing here?"

Castiel seemed confused. "I thought…"

"I called him" Enoch announced.

"Why?" Dean asked as she came to his side.

"Strategic logic. We are about to enter a foreign area to face a foe stronger than you and of unknown numbers. Three would be better than two." He stared at her and she shrugged. "Castiel agreed with me."

"I did. I thought it better to help you now than wait for you to get yourself into trouble, and then have to get you out."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Dean shook his head as he walked away, both angels flanking him.

The inside of the bar was no brighter than out. Smoke hung thick in the air and the noise was deafening. The whole place was packed with people, including a pack of girls that looked far too young to be there. Dean scanned the crowd as he made his way to the bar. It was a long bar spanning the length of an entire wall. Four bartenders worked behind it, the nearest a tall, dark girl spotted him and smiled slyly.

"Hey there," she said grabbing a few cocktail napkins out of her back pocket and placing them in front of him. These were her special cocktail napkins. The ones with her number neatly written on them. It was a little thing she did to any guy she found cute enough to take her home. Yeah, it was forward, maybe even slutty, but it worked.

"Scotch, rocks."

"And anything for your… uh, friends?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder to see Castiel and Enoch standing side by side like a stone wall of angelic countenance. He turned back to the bartender and shook his head. She turned and walked away to get his drink and he watched her leave very intently. Without taking his eyes away, he threw over his shoulder, "Could you guys look more out of place?"

"Yes," Enoch said.

"He's being sarcastic," Castiel said to her.

"Oh, seems like an odd time for one to say things they do not mean."

Castiel sat next to Dean at the bar and left Enoch to stand sentinel behind. She turned her head back a forth trying to take in everything she was seeing. It was impossible.

"What are you looking for?" Cas asked Dean.

"Vampire."

"Do you have any idea who it might be?"

Dean shook his head, "Not really."

"Then how do you intend to find him here?"

"I have my ways." The bartender was back and Dean locked her in one of his patented hansom-yet-mysterious-and-dangerous smiles. She smiled back and leaned in close the better to be heard.

"Can I get you anything else?" Her true implications were clear.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone. He might have been talking to one of these women?" He spread out pictures of the three victims that were supposed to have been seen at the bar. She looked down at them and her face flickered with recognition. She came back to him, her smile faded.

"You a cop or something?"

"Do I look like a cop?"

"No, _you_ don't," her eyes moved to Castiel who had been staring at her listening. It was clear that his presence unnerved her. Dean kicked him under the bar breaking his gaze.

"Why don't you and E go find a table? I'll be right there." Though Castiel didn't quite understand what was happening, he learned long ago when to take Dean's suggestions. He rose from the bar and left motioning Enoch to follow, who did only reluctantly glaring at the bartender as she went. Dean turned back and put his chin in his hand showing the tall, dark girl that she had his full attention.

"I didn't see the other two, but I remember this one." She pointed down at the blonde Sarah Humbert. "She was with a bunch of girl friends. I think they said they were on a road trip or something. She talked to a lot of guys, but Barry was really interested. He bought her drinks, but she didn't leave with him. She was gone long before he left."

"You didn't tell the police this?"

"Barry has… friends. Scary ones. They come in with him sometimes. It's just better to not mess with him. You know what I mean?"

"He here tonight?" She jerked her head toward the opposite corner of the bar where a short but well built man sat. He was light haired and dark eyed and wearing expensive clothes. He was alone, but did not seem in the least awkward, a whisky in his fist. Dean downed his own drink in one swallow and placed money on the bar, including an extra twenty for the information.

He found Enoch and Castiel on the other side of the bar. They stood around a high table. Castiel scanned the crowd intently and Enoch, just as intently, stared at Castiel. He still would not look her in the eye. It infuriated her. Dean stepped up to the table, his back to the bar. He tilted his head over his shoulder.

"That's our guy."

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah pretty sure. So I'm thinking we watch him, wait until he leaves and then follow him to the nest."

"He's not going back to the nest tonight." Enoch said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?"

"I can hear his thoughts."

"Oh, well, even better. Why don't you go over there and listen until you find out where the nest is."

Enoch sighed. "It does not work that way. I can only hear what one chooses to broadcast and the only thing coming from him is his desire for a girl, and I don't think he wants to eat her."

Dean snorted with laughter and said under his breath, "Maybe not how you think."

"What?" Enoch and Castiel said in unison. They both stared at him with matching expressions, which made Dean want to laugh again.

Instead he just shifted on his feet and said, "You guys hear like bats."

"So we are left with interrogation," Castiel said as a female patron passed by him. She ran her finger tips up his arm which made him rather uncomfortable so he leaned away from her nudging Enoch on his left. This seemed to make him even more uncomfortable and they both stiffly moved away from each other.

"Ok, so we wait until he leaves and then jump him." Dean shrugged his shoulders in a 'problem solved' kind of way.

"Perhaps we should be somewhat more subtle than that." Enoch suggested. "He wants to talk to a girl, and as we have discussed, I am a girl."

Dean snorted again and glanced to Castiel who shared with him a meaningful look. "Yeah, you're a girl, but I don't think you know what you are getting into. He's looking to hook up."

"Yes flirting, I know of it."

"See that's what I'm talking about. You say things like that, you don't flirt. Listen E, you've got a lot of skills, but this isn't one of them."

Her eyes narrowed at him, but then she sighed. "You are right. Such human interaction is beyond me. However, you have not seen all my skills." She broke off from the table walking with a purpose through the crowd toward a door under a bright neon light spelling out 'Restrooms.'

"What is she doing?" Dean asked Castiel.

"Perhaps she has to pee."

Dean shot him a withering look before they both followed. There was a dimly lit hallway behind the door. It was short and dirty with stained walls. Two more doors stood at the end, one on each side. Men and women. Enoch was half way down taking long strides seemingly to catch up with a girl she was following. It was the same girl that had ran her hand over Castiel's arm. Once reaching her, Enoch tapped her on the shoulder. The girl, in four inch heels, turned and looked down on the shorter angel. E reached up and swiped her index finger down the girl's forehead. Instantly her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell in a faint to the floor. Alarmed Dean ran to Enoch's side.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Oh chill out, gah. I didn't hurt her, she's just sleeping." The change in her demeanor was extreme, not just the way she talked but even how she was holding herself. Dean stumbled back.

"What the fuck?"

"OMG, Dean, calm yourself." Her hands came to her hips. "I am just, like, borrowing her personality for a bit. I mean it's a little more extreme than I thought it would be, but I thought, you know, what the hell, it works." She was talking so fast it was hard for Dean to keep up and then she giggled. Actually giggled. After seeing her kick a demon across a bar entirely stone faced, the sound that now escaped her just seemed incredibly… wrong.

The sound of a door opening brought them all to attention. A twenty-something guy was frozen at the door behind them. He had been looking for the bathroom, but seemed to have found something very different. He stared wide eyed moving from the guy in the trench coat, the two in leather jackets arguing and the girl passed out on the floor. Enoch smiled as charmingly as possible and leaned down. She grabbed the limp form under the arms and hoisted her up.

"Go back to the table. I'll be right out." She said as she dragged the girl into the women's bathroom. Dean stared shocked as the door closed behind her. The guy crossed down the hall suspiciously eyeing Dean and Castiel as he passed them. Dean tried to laugh it off.

"Just had too much to drink, you know." He said nervously. The guy disappeared into the men's room and he turned to Castiel. "Can you do what she just did?"

Castiel shook his head.

"Good, because that was just too weird."

They followed Enoch's orders and returned to the table where Dean promptly ordered two very strong drinks, both of which were for him. Enoch appeared from the restroom door soon after. She had switched clothes with the poor girl now passed out and propped up in a bathroom stall. The mini skirt and low cut shirt completed the transformation and she appeared to be almost a totally other person, though she still wore her black jacket to keep her arms covered. She sauntered up to the bar next to the vamp and seemed to fall easily into conversation with him. Castiel watched almost protectively.

"I don't like this plan."

"No argument here. I mean whatever happened to finding a monster and then shooting it in the face? I miss the old days." Dean sighed and put down his second glass. He glanced over at Enoch. "But she's a woman, right? When a woman decides to do something, there's no stopping them." She was laughing coyly, legs crossed. "What is it with you and her? I mean she calls, you jump to attention, but you don't look at her and you're really uncomfortable. I mean even more than usual." He put his hand on Cas's shoulder giving him a very serious and sympathetic look. "Is the little girl making you nervous?"

Castiel shrugged off his hand.

"She is Seraphim, the most revered of my kind. I've never even seen one before, and even if I had ever been in one's presence I still would not have seen them because we're not allowed to even look on them. They seemed more legend than anything else, and it's supposed to be physically impossible for Seraphim to enter a vessel or walk the Earth in any way. I'm as shocked to see her here as you were when we first met."

"Why is it so impossible for her to be here?"

"Every time we transit realms we have to break the vale between the reality you know here and that of Heaven. A Seraphim's true for is so massive it's dangerous. Hard to really explain, but think of a sonic boom through time and space. There is only one way she could be here and that's if God willed it to be."

"So dear old Dad is still around. That should make you happy."

"Yes, and no." Castiel returned to watching Enoch's performance which seemed to have come to an end. She slid off her bar stool and headed for the front door. At the last moment she glanced over her shoulder and caught his eye. She smiled wide and friendly as the door closed behind her. Castiel motioned to Dean as he followed her out. Their ears rang from the lack of sound as they left the club. The night had gotten a little colder and Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. They turned a corner and stopped abruptly as Enoch was waiting for them. She stood tall and straight with eyebrows furrowed and a sullen expression.

"You, uh, back to normal?" Dean asked.

"Yes," She said. "In fact I found that a very unpleasant experience. Her personality was very taxing."

"Well, it's nice to have you back. What did he tell you?"

"Very little, I am afraid. He almost shut me out completely. It would seem that even with the short skirt, as you suggested, I was not his type. He had a passing thought, something having to do with my bazooms being too small." She paused thinking very hard. "I do not know what that means."

Dean wanted to laugh, but he really didn't want to explain the word, bazooms, so he just plowed on with the problem at hand. "So you got nothing?"

"I said he did not tell me much, but he did not have much authority over his mind. It went on many tangents, including that he had a room in the hotel, number 238." Dean smiled.

"That's my girl, still can't flirt, but you use what God gave you."

He and Enoch soon found themselves standing in front of hotel door 238. They spent most of their time walking to the hotel and riding up the elevator arguing about whether Enoch's plan had been more or less effective than Dean's.

"All I'm saying is that we would have gotten just as much information, maybe more, if we had done it my way. Plus there is the satisfaction of beating the hell out of a vampire."

"Your satisfaction would be short lived, Dean Winchester. This way we still have the element of surprise."

"We could have kept the element of surprise by killing him."

"And he would have known that to be his ultimate end and no doubt would have simply fed you lies."

"I don't know. I'm very persuasive." He flashed a smile that would have melted any other girl, but Enoch just lifted an eyebrow doubtfully.

"Are you?"

The bolt of the hotel door unlocked with a snap from inside, and slowly swung open. Castiel stood behind it waiting. They slipped in closing and locking the door behind and Dean went straight to work looking through a nearby nightstand.

"What are we looking for?" Enoch moved from foot to foot convinced that she would be able to keep better balance on the extremely high heels.

"Anything vampish. There's got to be a reason why he has the room. It's weird, usually they just return to their nests."

Castiel went to a desk opening the drawers and running his hands behind it looking for hidden objects. Enoch went to the other nightstand and upon finding nothing, went to her hands and knees to look under the bed. However, that made it very easy for Dean, who had also gone to the desk, and Castiel both to appreciate how short her skirt actually was. They stared down on her as she searched under the bed, her ear to the floor, her back arched. She sighed and quite suddenly jumped to her feet spinning to face them. Dean looked away as quick as he could, but Castiel wasn't so lucky. Her eyes locked on him.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," Cas said perhaps a little too quickly, a little too guiltily. She eyed him suspiciously.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," again a little too quickly, a little too defensively. He averted his eyes then, looking down at a drawer he had already searched. Enoch's eyes narrowed on him as she walked to the bathroom. She disappeared inside.

"Dude," it was Dean at his shoulder with a wicked smirk. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing." It came out as an insistent growl as Cas slammed the drawer closed. A sharp 'bing' sounded at their feet as something metallic bounced off the wooden floors. A coin too large and thick to be a quarter rolled away.

Dean stepped on it and picked it up. It glinted like copper and the image stamped on its face was old and faded. The two angels came to stand around him, all looking intently at the coin. Dean looked up at Enoch handing it to her.

"What is it?" She shook head blankly and handed it back.

"It's a tag," Castiel said taking it. "The Romans used to use them to mark their property."

"Property?" Enoch asked highly doubting that the hotel desk ever belong to an ancient roman.

"Slaves." He took a deep breath examining the coin. "Sometimes demons like to do the same thing. Marking their minions. Though, usually demons like to brand their slaves with the coin instead of letting them hold them."

"So this vampire is working for a demon?" Dean rolled the thought around in his head. "Can't say I've ever hear of that before."

"He has the map," Enoch declared.

"Who?"

"The demon."

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"I do not know, really. But do you not see? I was told we would know it when we saw it, and you did. You saw the vampire activity that led us to a demon, where no demon should be. You said that you have never heard of this kind of situation before. It is odd and exactly what we were meant to do."

Dean looked at her unsure, "Whether this thing has the map or not, we have to find it first. If the vampires are this guy's worker bees, then he's probably at the nest, and we still don't know where that is."

"I may know a spell," Castiel said now holding the coin under a light. "I think I can use this coin to find the demon, if it's close enough, but it may take time."

"Alright, go and get started, we'll finish here." Castiel vanished and Enoch felt a pang of jealousy. Her Earth bound existence was starting to annoy her, but she quickly reminded herself that jealousy was a sin, said a little prayer, and turned to Dean.

"I believe I found something, but as I do not know the present common practices of the average human I cannot be sure." She led him to the bathroom. She had found a small men's toiletry bag under the sink. She unzipped it and spilled its contents on the counter. Four syringes filled with red liquid fell out.

"Well, that's definitely not part of my common practices." He picked up a syringe tilting it back and forth. The liquid sloshed back and forth heavily coating the sides in think red. "What is a vampire doing with dead man's blood?" He locked eyes with her. "The level of weirdness is reaching Twilight Zone levels." Enoch's eyes widened in alarm.

"Is that very bad?"

"Never mind."

"Are you sure it is dead man's blood?"

"What else is it going to be?" She took up another syringe and pushed out a little puddle on the counter. She looked at it closely and then dipped her fingertip.

"Definitely blood." She smelled it.

"Uh, should you be doing that?" Dean had had his share of times interacting with blood. He had been covered in it, wiped it over his face as a disguise; it had been in his eyes, mouth and even ears, but never had he intentionally smelled it for examination purposes. Just as he was thinking this, she put her finger in her mouth tasting the mystery blood. "Come on, E! That's just gross."

It was obvious that she agreed as she violently gagged. She doubled over the sink spitting and heaving. She fumbled over the facet scooping handfuls of water in her mouth and then spitting it out again. Dean hadn't expected the reaction, but wasn't terribly surprised. What did she expect? He probably would have had done the same. But now watching her all but throw-up in the bathroom sink, he felt that he should do something.

"You want me to hold your hair back or something?"

She shook her head as she shut off the water. "Sorry, I was not expecting that." She took a deep breath before standing up again. "Not human blood, demon blood. I think we just found your 'weird ass roofie." He looked down at the syringe in his hand astounded.

"Shit, E, you were right. They don't want to eat them." They stared at each other trying in their own minds to fathom the implications of this. It was true that Sam had at one time been addicted to demon blood; even so he had never injected the poison straight into his veins. No wonder all the girls had died. "Let's get outta here; I think I've had enough for one night." She nodded and left the bathroom. Dean gathered the syringes into the toiletry bag and tucked it carefully inside his jacket.

Enoch walked across the hotel room and reached for the door knob, but suddenly stopped short. There was a sharp click from the other side and it swung open before her revealing the light haired, dark eyed vampire. A heavily intoxicated blonde hung on his arm and looking at her, Enoch suddenly understood what the word 'bazooms' meant. The blonde laid eyes on Enoch and let out an angry squeal. She rounded on the vampire.

"What the hell? I told you I'm into that shit." She slapped him across the face (he barely flinched) and half ran half stumbled down the hall. However the vampire had forgotten about her, instead he was staring at Enoch.

"Who the fuck are you?" She took a step back trying to brace herself. She was not a practiced hand to hand fighter and had no weapon of any kind. She turned her head side to side, but Dean was nowhere to be seen. As her eyes came back front, the vamp had advanced and was closing the door behind him. "I remember now, you're the girl from the bar down stairs. What are you doing in here?" He scanned the room looking at the results of the search the three had performed. Then a thought came to his mind, so obvious. "Hunter," He growled.

Enoch's mind whirled, but seemed unable to form any clear thought. It was as if she was trying to think through a fog, and suddenly he had her by the lapels of her jacket. He leaned in close and whispered, "I think he's going to like you." He jerked her in close intending to lift her from her feet, but couldn't. Instead he threw her back hard. Under any other circumstance she would have been able to keep her balance and recover, but the high heels tangled under her and she tumbled to the ground landing on her stomach. She pushed herself up and tried to turn, but was immediately met with a closed fist.

It didn't hurt as much as it surprised her. She had never in all of her very long life been punched in the face. A hand grabbed her firmly around the arm and flipped her over. The vamp hovered over her, placing a knee across her chest. He smiled down at her revealing a mouth of hideous fangs. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth as he raised a hand high into the air. He had grabbed the hotel phone. It was an old, heavy thing. Usually, with his superior strength one punch would have been more than enough to knock out a woman, but it hadn't worked this time, so he figured her would instead bash her head in with the phone. It came crashing down and instinctly Enoch raised her arms over her head to block the blow, but there was no connection.

Instead, the heavy wooden desk chair smashed across the vampire's back. A loud crack as the chair shattered brought Enoch back to her senses. She kicked hard with both legs pushing the vampire off of her and into the waiting fists of Dean Winchester.

The chair to the back of the head had totally disoriented the vampire and it took him some time to retaliate. Dean used the opening to cause as much damage as possible punching as hard as he could to the face and body, but the vampire was stronger than him and once he connected a hit of his own, it pushed Dean back several steps. Seeing stars, he didn't notice the hands grabbing him around the shoulders, but he did notice the bathroom door as he was thrown through it.

As he came down, Dean's pistol fell from his waist band and skidded over the bathroom floor away from his grasp. But this was a vampire, so this wasn't a gun fight. It was a knife fight and Dean had one of those too. A big one. Right now he was painfully reminded of that fact as it jabbed him sharply under his arm. As he climbed to his feet, he retrieved the knife and its cold, silver blade glinted in the florescent light.

Picking his way over the ruined door, Dean came out into the main room where Enoch had managed to finally kick off the horrible shoes and gotten to her feet. The vampire faced her with a chair leg in his hands. He swung it with all his body weight behind, but Enoch simply caught it, yanked it from his grasp and almost lazily, back-handed him across the face with it. The blow spun him, but it was not hard enough to send him to the floor. As he stumbled away, she caught sight of Dean, knife in hand, and understood.

She choked up on the chair leg and using it like a bat swung directly at the vampire's knee. He fell to a crouch and with just two well practiced slashes Dean severed the vampire's head. The body thumped to the floor with a slight twitch. Breathing heavy, both Dean and Enoch backed away from the gathering pool of blood.

"You alright?" Dean asked.

"Yes, thank you. You?"

"Fantastic."

"I miss my shoes."

They decided that they would not be able to hide what they did, so it was best to leave as soon as possible. They took the stairs down and Enoch slipped back into the night club to switch clothes again with the girl still passed out in the lady's room. By the time they reached their own hotel room, they both had black eyes, Dean's looked far worse. Castiel was waiting for them and took a quite comical double take when they came through the door. They told him of the vampire encounter and he immediately placed his hand on Dean's forehead and healed him as good as new. Enoch was left with her black eye, but she didn't really mind. She couldn't heal herself, and Castiel would never get close enough to do it for her, but she would heal fast enough that it would be gone in a matter of hours.

"The good news is I found the demon," Castiel said holding up the coin. "His name is Conrad and is apparently held up in a farm house a few miles outside of town. Unfortunately, you were right Dean, it's the vampire nest as well and there are a lot of them."

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

"It took longer than I thought for you to get back so I went there, looked around."

"I thought you said the spell would take a while."

"It did…" Castiel stared at Dean with a confused expression. Dean shook his head never minding the situation. He still didn't understand an angel's concept of time.

"Ok fine, how much is a lot?"

"I don't know. Fifty, maybe more."

Dean hesitated. "Fifty? Are you shitting me? That's just bullshit."

"Why?" Enoch asked. "Why does that make you upset?"

"Because that is a fucking lot of vampires. We're a little unprepared for this fight." He raked his hands through his hair trying to think clearly. This whole situation was quickly getting out of hand and was far too full of surprises. "Maybe Bobby can help, but it will take a couple of days for him to get here."

"It will be too late by then. Someone will find the body tomorrow or the next day and then the vampires will be on guard, or will move on."

"Alright uber angel, you got a plan?"

"Unfortunately no," She confessed. "I have only ever fought two things in this world and that are demons and humans. Anything else is beyond my experience. But you have gotten along for a very long time without the help of anyone except your brother. If he was here, and it was just the two of you, what would you do?"

"I don't know…" He paced the room. "Firebomb the house and then go in later to make sure everything is dead." He suddenly snapped his fingers and sat next to Enoch. "There's an idea. Use your angel powers and wipe out the house." She turned to him angrily.

"What?"

"You know rain down hell fire or something."

She threw herself to her feet and walked away crossing her arms over her chest. "I do not do that anymore."

"And it wouldn't matter if she did," Castiel could see a fight brewing between the two and thought defusing the situation would be best. "Taking the house and nest out in one blast will destroy the map if it's there."

"It is there." Enoch said firmly.

"Ok," Dean said. "We'll have to go to the house, watch it, and then once the vampires go to sleep and it quiets down, we'll go in. They sleep all day, so at least day light will be on our side. But I would just like it known that this situation blows."

Enoch looked at Castiel quizzically. She didn't understand Dean, but did not want to ask him, while in his current state, to clarify. Castiel just shook his head as if to tell her to let it go. Suddenly they both turned as if reacting to a loud, far off noise. They tilted their heads listening.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Something is happening," Enoch said moving to the window.

"I have to go," Castiel said. He moved quickly gathering the materials he had used for the location spell. "I must return to Heaven. I will try to come back soon, but-"

"Yeah, yeah I know. You can't guarantee anything, right?" He did little to hide his annoyance. Castiel stopped his gathering and looked at him curiously. Dean didn't like that look. "What?"

"Sam's absence has made you a little needy." At that he continued what he was doing, but before he left he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and said, "Be careful. Try not to die while I'm gone."

"Yeah, same to you, I guess." Castiel was gone and Enoch and Dean were left staring at each other across the hotel room.

"That was a nice moment," She said sincerely.

"Shut up," He snarled, once again leaving her bewildered by his reaction.


	4. Chapter 4

The Impala sat parked on the side of a country road. It was positioned at the top of a sharp embankment that ended at a chain-link fence which gave way to a huge field. Where crops might have been at one time, it was bare and over run with wispy grass stalks. In the middle of the field, a two story house stood with light blue paint faded and chipped; all the windows looked out as black voids. It had stood there for decades and many families had come and gone from it. Children had been raised there, but it was empty now. Had been for years. At least, it should have been empty.

For a day and night, the Impala stood century watching the house. In that time it saw far too many cars and trucks come and go, up and down the little dirt driveway. Dean and Enoch saw them too, from the Impala's front seat.

It was early in the morning and the sun was just rising. This was to be the morning they would enter the house. Though the vampires did seem to frequent the house throughout the night, they did not stay there during the day, all the better for Dean and Enoch. One last car remained parked in front of the house, and they waited quietly for it to leave.

"So," Dean said terribly bored. "That little trick you did the other night at the bar… that was interesting." She smirked slightly.

"Interesting, yes. Necessary, sometimes, but also dangerous. It is a skill used to better disguise myself as human, like my amulet, but I try to avoid it."

"Why?"

She sighed trying to pick her words carefully.

"A human's personality is the meeting of soul and mind. It is special and not easily released. I say I borrow personalities, but truthfully it is more like I steal them for a while. It is very hard to describe, but I have to almost rip it from the human. Though it does not physically hurt, nothing rips clean; something else always comes with it."

"Like what?"

She shrugged, "A memory, a vice… sometimes a favorite smell or taste. Whatever it is, I cannot give it back when I release the personality. They lose it forever. That is why I try to do it as quickly as possible; just the quickest of touches to the forehead."

"What happens if you don't do it quickly?"

"I do not know. I suppose that if I did not stop myself as I do, I could steal all of one's self leaving just a shell." She paused, thinking. "Not that I would ever do that."

"So what did the girl in the bar lose?"

"A memory of very small, red sneakers. I believe it was of her childhood."

The car sputtered to life at the house and started to amble away. At this signal Dean and Enoch left the Impala and started down the embankment. They didn't speak, each concentrating on listening. The house was surrounded on three sides by fields and woods, which could hide anything. Dean was especially anxious, and it wasn't because Enoch was mostly devoid of any kind of fear. He never before wanted Sam back more. Walking into this situation felt all wrong. He wanted someone to watch his back, and though E was there and she had proclaimed herself his protector, he felt as if he was alone.

They crossed the field, circled the house once looking for anything out of the ordinary, and finding nothing, climbed the few steps to the front porch. The house was silent. Totally. Eerily. Dean removed his silver blade and held it ready in one hand and a sawed off shotgun in the other as he peered through a broken window pane. Enoch stood close behind watching the opposite direction.

"Alright," he whispered to her. "Get out your knife."

"What knife?" She whispered back.

"You're knife." She stared at him blankly. "The huge knife that all angels carry, that knife."

"Oh," she bit her lip slightly. "I… uh… do not have one."

Dean slowly turned toward her, eyes wide in surprised fury. "What?" he said far too loudly.

"Only soldiers have those. I am not a soldier."

"You don't have a weapon? Are you insane?"

"I do not have any formal weapons training."

"You are killing me here, E. You are killing me!" She put her finger over her mouth to shush him, and then waved him toward the front door. He put a hand on the door knob and took a deep breath preparing himself. This was it. He was going to die at the hands of a mob of vampires egged on by a demon. Maybe this time he would stay dead. Maybe he wouldn't go back to hell. Or maybe this was all just stupid and he should just leave the porch, cross the field, get back into the Impala and drive back to Lisa, leaving Enoch here in this god forsaken place. He glanced back over his shoulder at her and the sight of her blank face and alert green eyes made him want to kill her himself. An angel without an angel knife, he must be cursed.

He pushed the door open slowly. It made a terrible creaking sound as it went, but the house remained silent. If it hadn't been a vampire haven and a demon stronghold, the farmhouse would have been quaint and warm. Everything was old and dirty of course, neglect was apparent, but every room had large windows filling them with welcoming light.

The first floor yielded nothing unusual. No vampires, no demons, no demon signs, and no map. They went to the second floor, each step of the stairs moaned, but other than that the only sound was their breathing. The second floor was just as the same as the first. Dean dropped his arms and shrugged.

"I guess no one's home."

"Look for the map," Enoch said as she crossed to a bookshelf. They searched around the entire room, but found nothing. Dean was about to leave to search another room and Enoch was standing in the center turning in circles looking around, when a loud cracking noise made them both stop. They both tensed listening for movement from down stairs. There was another cracking noise, and a slight moan and squeak, then nothing.

They both relaxed a little, but suddenly the floor under Enoch gave way and she fell through the old rotted wood. She hit the first floor, but didn't stop. Her unnatural weight mixed with momentum and old wood caused her to fall straight through to a basement. She landed hard on her side, but was unhurt. The dust and dirt kicked up by the fall made her cough and gag as she climbed to her feet. The basement had a suppressive gloom that hid everything in shadow, and a strange yet familiar smell was heavy in the air. Looking up she could see Dean peering down at her.

"I am unharmed," she called up to him and he disappeared presumably descending the stairs to meet her. As she dusted herself off, a soft tsking sound could be heard. And then a voice floated to her.

"Oh dear," it said. "I thought you all landed on your feet."

The voice sounded like an old man's, though there was something about it that wasn't quite right. Something singsongy and creepy. There was a sharp click and a single light cut through the gloom. A man sat under it, small and frail with thick glasses that made his eyes look comically large. He was scribbling on a nearby wall with a stick of chalk. He was clothed in an old cardigan and dirty pants, and if Enoch had not been an angel she might have felt pity for this small harmless man, but she was an angel. And with her angel eyes she saw the demon inside.

"You're an angel of course." He glanced over his shoulder. "You see, you don't look like one; I'm not sure how you are doing that, but I know you are one." She absently touched the cross around her neck as he went back to his scribbling. "I know you're one of those or you wouldn't be here, you see. I knew eventually you would come. You all have been prowling around the Earth for a while now; I knew it was only a matter of time before you would find me. Disturb my work." He clinched a fist snapping the chalk in half. He picked up the two pieces, and held them up staring at them as if he did not understand how the chalk had broken. "Disturb my work," he said again throwing one half of the chalk across the room.

"You are Conrad," she ventured. He mumbled in affirmation. "You have a map I am looking for."

"Map, map. That's not my work." He turned to her suspiciously. "You don't speak clearly, angel. You ask all the wrong questions, you see. How did you get here, that is the question."

"Where is the map?" she tried again never one for subtly.

Suddenly he spun on her. "No no no not a map, a seal. It's old, you see, and meant for something completely different, but I made some changes and though its range is limited, it still works."

"This game you are playing is… strange. All I want is the map. You will give it to me." Enoch did not care for the demon's riddles. She had just fallen through two floors and didn't have the patience. She advanced intending to shake the map out of him if necessary, but she stopped. Or rather something stopped her, like an invisible wall. Conrad laughed and pointed at her feet. There a large white encircled pentagram was drawn around her. It looked like a devil's trap, but the runes were different.

"You see," he said delighted. "It attracts and keeps angels. And it works. But that is nothing; you see I also did this." He skipped to the wall he had been drawing on and turned the light up to reveal another smaller circle. This one was unlike anything Enoch had seen. "The big one traps you, but the little one binds you."

He reached up to the smaller circle and with one swipe of chalk completed it. This finished the spell, and Enoch felt her limbs get heavy, as if there were ropes pulling on her wrists and ankles. The pull soon became too much to fight and the force threw her onto her back. She struggled to no avail. Conrad's face hovered over her.

"Now, you see, I didn't know whether that one would work or not. I should make a note." He scurried away. "That's all I want, you see, to know if things will work; how they work. For instance, did you know that if I inject my blood into a werewolf they become violently ill, and then die? If I do it to vampires they feel a kind of ecstasy, but too much and they die. Now, you see, humans on the other hand," he paused. "Well, my research is incomplete, but so far they've all died."

"You have been experimenting on the creatures of this world?"

"What else? You see, I know how my kind work, my research is complete with demons, but here…" He stared off as if seeing something quite beautiful. With a shake he came back to the present. "There is just so much to learn here, you see. But it is difficult. Everything is so frail here, you see. So easily destroyed. That's why I set all this up." He grabbed the light and started to move it around the room illuminating other runes, circles, and seals.

To Enoch's horror, each one was a symbol of warding against angels. The only space not covered was the hole in which she had fallen through. Even if she was able to free herself from the seal that now encircled her, and that seemed unlikely, she would never be able to dispel all the seals to get out of the room. When he was satisfied that she had seen all of his great work, Conrad replaced the light and came to stoop over her.

"You see, I knew you all were coming, and yes my first instinct was to run, to leave all of my work behind, but then no."He stared off again, past her, through her. She could smell his putrid breath as he mouth-breathed over her face. "No, what if…what if." Again he shook and blinked at her as if he had forgotten she was there. "Your kind is so much sturdier than anything around here. You see, I could learn so much." From a pocket he produced a single, red syringe.

Enoch's eyes went wide and she started to struggle again, but could not break free.

"If you touch me," she gasped, "you will be sorry."

This seemed to cause him to halt, thinking. He's eyes darted back a forth weighing the pros and cons. "You see," he finally said, "I just don't think I will."

She thrashed as he grabbed her arm and leaned all his body weight on it so as to keep her steady. He pulled back the sleeve of her hoodie. She struggled more, but Conrad just softly shushed her as he grabbed her forearm. She threw her head back cracking the floor, gritting her teeth and growled in pain. But Conrad had stopped the needle inches from her skin.

Something was wrong.

He replaced the needle to his pocket and backed up a little before he slowly removed his hand from her bare arm. An angry black burn remained.

"Now, you see, that's interesting."

Dean chuckled to himself remembering Enoch's face as she fell through the floor. He plunked down the stairs, the silver knife swinging by his side and the shotgun resting on his shoulder. He was in no particular hurry. Enoch had called up to him that she was alright so he was taking his time searching for the map in the upper floors. It was just as he reached the landing on the first floor when a scream issued from the depths of the house. It made him stop as the sound echoed off the walls and into the fields. Another cry was heard and there was no doubt that it came from the basement.

Dean shot into a run coming to a kitchen and a locked basement door. He slammed his foot against it again and again until, with a spray of splinters, the lock broke and the door flew open. Vaulting over the basement stairs, Dean was met by the gloom.

Enoch lay on the floor in what looked like a huge devil's trap like some strange rendition of the Vitruvian Man. Her eyes were closed though tears flowed freely from them and her face was contorted in pain. An old man stooped over her mumbling to himself and writing in a book. It was obvious to Dean that this was an 'act first, ask questions later' kind of situation. So without a hesitation he ran up behind the old man and stabbed him with the silver knife. His aim was true and the blade sliced through the base of the skull and out the throat.

Conrad jerked upright in surprised. For even through the loud crash of the breaking door, and Dean's heavy footsteps, Conrad was so enthralled in what he had discovered that he heard nothing and was unaware of anything until the blade found him. He turned around and stared up at Dean. His eyes were fully black now, but he held a kind of pathetic lost look.

He stumbled around as if lost and mumbling, "No no, my work. Another, there wasn't supposed to be another." He seemed to settle down and found Dean with his jet eyes. "You see, you are not supposed to be here." He pushed Dean back hard and sent him crashing into the wall. Conrad then busied himself with the task of removing the knife.

Dean hit the wall and then the floor. Both were unforgiving and it took a moment to catch his breath. He expected the demon to be on him but as he looked up he saw that Conrad was turning in circles trying to grab the knife protruding from the back of his neck. If it wasn't so gruesome and if his life was not potentially in danger, the situation might have been comical.

Dean raised his shotgun. Rock salt cut through Conrad's chest throwing him back a few steps. He called out as he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground. Suddenly he produced a coin in his hand. He rubbed it and whispered at it, but Dean was on his feet by then and quickly crossing the room. However, well before he could get his hands on the demon, black smoke erupted from the old man's mouth as Conrad escaped the mortal form and out a small window in the corner of the basement.

The now empty body of the old man fell into a motionless heap. Dean turned to Enoch who was still bound to the circle on the floor. Her hoodie had been cut away and her t-shirt was pulled up and ripped to reveal as much skin as possible; large black burns covered all of it. At first Conrad worked mechanically, scientifically. He would drag his finger across her skin and then write down the results, but after a while he became too tickled by the unexpected reaction that he decided to play and started to draw little pictures and write words including a full hand print burned into her chest.

Dean looked down on her lost for words. He ran his fingers through his hair frustrated and exasperated. Her eyes flickered open and, to Dean's great relief, they were just as alert and piercing as before. She jutted her chin behind him.

"The seal behind you; break it." He found it and scraped away some of the chalk. With the spell having no more hold over her, Enoch curled into a ball holding her bare arms close to her body. It was clear that the burns still caused her much pain, but her tears had stopped. He was grateful for that. He hated when girls cried.

He scraped the paint on the floor breaking the trap then leaned over Enoch. Everything had gone wrong. There was no map, no vampires, and one hell of a trap, and though he knew she was an angel and so much stronger than he, Dean looked at her and only saw a hurt girl. He reached down to lift her up, his only thought to get out of the house, but she suddenly pushed him away.

"No," she gasped. "Do not touch me." She pushed herself to a sitting position and suddenly noticed Dean's pained and concerned expression. This seemed to surprise her. "I will be alright," She tried to assure him, but he didn't look too convinced. "I will. We need to find that map."

"No, what we need is to get the hell out of here."

"We've come this far." She tried changing tactics. "You wanted me to wipe the house off the face of the Earth, right. We find the map and I will do it with every vampire inside." Her eyes took on a dangerous glow and the single light popped broken and dark. He suddenly thought that perhaps this was the first time he had ever seen Enoch truly pissed.

"You really ok?" With effort she stood as to prove that she would be alright but she seemed so fragile with her arms bared and burned. Dean removed his over shirt and handed it to her. She was grateful for the long sleeves. They started to search through the basement, but it was not long that the familiar, horrible creak of the front door broke the silence. They both stopped and stared alarmed. Heavy footsteps could be heard above. They were joined by another set of steps and then another. There were at least five people on the first floor. "Map or no map, it's time to leave, E."

"You are right, but how do you suggest we retreat?" They could now hear cars pulling up outside the house. Apparently the demon had called his reinforcements, now vampires were flooding the area.

Dean went to the small, open window. It was high up and it would be a tight squeeze for him, but they both should be able to get through. Enoch went first. It clearly pained her to move, but she was able to jump to the window and pull herself through with no help; Dean had to stand on a box. He could hear someone coming down the basement stairs as he wriggled through.

They had climbed out at the back on the house. Unfortunately the Impala sat across a field toward the front. They were on the wrong side. Dean had made sure to retrieve his knife from the old man's body and he now held it at the ready. They eased around the house, but just before the first corner, a Vampire came around to meet them. She was younger and blonde, but had a vacant, dead look in her bloodshot eyes. Dean took a step forward, he could take this one out easily enough, but as in answer three more turned the corner.

Enoch stepped protectively between Dean and the oncoming enemies. Four vampires between the two of them, wasn't so bad. A twig snapped behind them, and they glanced over their shoulders to see five more.

"May I suggest we run?" Enoch said, almost casually.

They took off across the field. They ran as fast as they could not daring to look back and ignoring the shouts as more vamps were called. All the while at the edge of their minds they knew they were running farther and farther away from the Impala.

In her weaken state, Enoch was only as fast as Dean and each movement brought with it pain. As they reached the tree line, she suddenly stopped and leaned against a trunk. He skidded to a stop next to her, and for the first time saw the horde coming for them. There had to be at least twenty or thirty of them. Luckily they had all waited until their ranks were together to start their pursuit. Dean and Enoch had a head start, but it was shrinking by the second.

"We cannot out run them," Enoch huffed.

"Well, we can't fight them all." He motioned behind her; she glanced over her shoulder seeing their numbers. She had seen bigger armies before.

"Maybe you cannot, but I can. However, you cannot be here."

"What are you talking about?" She didn't hear his question as she was talking to herself, her eyes closed. Dean could not understand any of the Enochian words except one, Castiel.

"I still have enough strength to destroy them, but just. I will not be able to protect you. Castiel will take you to safety and I will take care of them. Then you both can get the map and find your brother."

"What are you going to do?"

"It does not matter."

"But it will kill you?"

She hesitated. "My vessel, yes, I do not know what will happen to me."

"No, let's just keep going, we could-"

"It will not work."

"I'm not going to leave you here."

"You must."

"No, I did that before and never forgave myself."

"Dean Winchester," She commanded. They were running out of time.

"No."

"Go," She yelled at him this time. The vampires were now getting far too close.

"No," He yelled back.

"You stupid son of bitch," She hoped she had said that right as she threw herself off the tree and into Dean's face. Her fury was striking, but he refused to step back. "You will not be happy until you are dead for good. Perhaps today is that day. I have never before met such a stubborn ass, so just shut up and stand still."

She yanked the silver knife from his hand and wiped the blood from it on her pant leg. She then used it to carve sigils on the palms of her hands. The knife was tossed to the side as she turned to face to oncoming vampires. She stomped her feet into the ground trying to get a sure stance and then she spread her arms wide.

"Forgive me," she whispered as the power lines lining the house and distant road buzzed and sparked. A transformer exploded as she brought her hands together.

At first nothing happened and Dean feared that something had gone wrong, but then he heard it. Like a massive subwoofer powering up, a rumble rose out of what seemed to be the Earth itself. As the sound rose to deafening heights, it brought with it the wind. Dean felt it coming from behind as if the trees were trying to repel them. The wind caught Enoch's hair wiping it in her face and billowing out Dean's over shirt that she still wore, but it could not move her. She stood her ground as it blew past and into the field and the oncoming vampires.

The wind cut through them. More like smashed through them, like running head long into a brick wall. It threw the first line into the air and simply crushed the rest. Soon the whole of the horde lay in ruins, but the wind did not stop. It grew and swirled around them. It began to strip the limbs from the trees and roared in their ears. Dean shook himself from his shock and amazement. He ran to Enoch's side and yelled in her ear.

"I think you got 'em." But she wasn't listening. Her eyes were closed and she trembled as the wind swirled around them and blood oozed from her clasped hands. The wind was so powerful that Dean could no longer hear his own voice calling out her name. Then something hard hit him on the head.

First, he spun around thinking someone had survived the attack, but there was no one. Another smack to the head. Hail rained across the field in large, jagged chunks. The only thing shielding Dean were the trees, but according to the loud splintering sounds, that shield may not be there much longer.

Dean renewed his pleading with Enoch. He screamed at her, but nothing. She stood serenely unaware of her surroundings with her hands held up in front of her, bleeding. He grabbed her arms trying to pull her hands apart, but they would not budge.

"E," He called as he pulled and the hail ricochet of the tree trunks. "E, you've got to stop. Just stop. STOP!" She didn't respond. Dean didn't know what to do. He was inches from her, yelling as loud as he could and pulling as hard as he could, and just when he was about to reach his last resort and punch her in the face or possibly shoot her, a hand clamped down on his shoulder forcefully pushed him away.

Castiel took his place next to her and grabbed her wrists. It seemed that he was as helpless to move her, but slowly her hands separated. Then suddenly, like breaking a chain, Enoch's arms released as Castiel threw them outward. Her eyes flashed open and she gasped air as if terribly surprised. She stared up at him not knowing how they got into this position, not truly knowing what she had done. She hoped Dean was still alive. Castiel waited until her muscles relaxed before releasing her wrists and then turned to Dean.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just peachy." Castiel lifted him to his feet. "What the hell happened?"

They both looked at Enoch. She stared out over the field and what she had done, panting. She was tired and the burns on her arms and chest throbbed, but as she surveyed the field she smiled. She rolled her eyes to meet Dean's.

"I still got it." She breathed, and then promptly fainted, face first to the ground.

Dean dropped to her side. He rolled her over and to his relief, she was still breathing. Castiel stood behind, his extreme concern silent as he noticed the black burns. Dean sighed rubbing his chin.

"I knew this was a bad idea. No one ever listens to me." He threaded his arms under Enoch and lifted her but only got about a foot off the ground before falling back down. "Holy crap, she weighs a ton."

"I'm sure it's not a ton."

"You know what I mean. Why is she so heavy?"

"She is a Seraphim. Her true form is, for lack of a better word, massive. In her vessel she is… very… condensed."

"I won't be able to get her to the car, can you lift her?"

"Of course I can," Castiel said but didn't move.

Dean stood slowly, trying to keep his patience. He said each word haltingly. "Then pick her up." Castiel hesitated briefly but did as Dean bade. He stooped and lifted Enoch with little effort, and she lay limp and small in his arms. He could see the black burns on her chest and shoulders closer now, and could not deny the anger he felt. She was a Seraphim; a beacon of purity and true good even among other angels. Having her hurt in such a way, a plaything for a demon was disgusting.

They knew that leaving would mean that they would be leaving the map behind, but with Enoch injured and unconscious, they both silently agreed they would return at a later time and rip the entire place apart if they had to. For the time being, they were content to get back to the Impala and back into town.

Castiel gingerly laid Enoch on the hotel bed as Dean crossed to the bathroom. She had still not awakened. Castiel gently pulled back the collar of the over shirt she still wore. The black handprint shinned back at him. Dean appeared with a wet cloth, and bent over her, but his wrist was caught.

"It won't help," Castiel said. Dean dropped his arms helpless and then threw the cloth across the room. It hit the wall and then slumped to the ground.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing. She will heal herself. She just needs time," he walked away.

"Sorry, but you are being way too calm about this. Me, personally, I see a girl get the living crap beat out of her, tortured, I get a little irate."

Castiel suddenly turned. "She is not a girl." He glared openly at Dean, and that little seen fire burned in his crystal blue eyes. "And I am not calm." Dean believed him and dropped his voice to a less accusatory tone.

"What did they do to her?"

"Seraphs are extremely sensitive beings. It's said that the touch of evil burns their skin like acid."

"Huh," Dean nodded. "I guess the rumors are true. I guess that explains why she never lets any one touch her."

"Not exactly. Humans are not purely evil, you couldn't hurt her. Instead she would have an effect you."

"Affect me? Like what, melt my brain or something?"

"I believe you have described it in scripture as," He thought for a second searching for the words. "Divine ecstasy." Dean's eyebrows perked.

"What?"

"It's an overwhelming sense of pleasure, of a sort."

Dean was silent, thinking this over.

"I know this is in no way to right time," he finally said, "But that's kind of hot."

"Dean," Cas said exasperated. "The key word in the sentence was 'overwhelming.' As in to the point that your heart would fail and you would die."

"Yeah, but what a way to go, right?" Dean gave him a look, and Cas turned away annoyed. But Dean couldn't help it. Bad things happen. Horrible things happen. Bad, horrible, terrible, awful things happen, and humor had always been his natural defense. Well, next to his shot gun. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. So tell me this. What happens when another angel touches her?"

"I don't know." He stood by the foot of the bed.

"Whatta mean you don't know?"

"It is forbidden to touch a Seraphim. As far as I know, no angel ever has. She is special."

"Why are you speaking of me as if I am not here?" A weak voice rose from the bed. Cas went to the side of the bed and Dean followed on the opposite. There was a brief moment where neither of them knew what to say to her. They gave each other a look and then Cas cleared his throat.

"Are you alright?" She nodded weakly.

"I was wrong about human kind. They are much stronger than I imagined. I would have thought my vessel would have been torn apart."

"Probably would have if Cas didn't stop you." Her eyebrows furrowed confused and stared up at Castiel.

"You stopped me?" He nodded and her eyes darted away, thinking. She suddenly gasped and sat up like a firing piston. The minute she did, she regretted it. Her head spun violently, but she ignored it. "The map! Did you get the map?"

"Don't worry about that."

"No, we have to get it now before the demon returns."

"Conrad ran. He's gone."

"Not for long." She slumped back down. "He will not leave his work. It must be now."

"Fine, ok. But not you. You stay here and Cas and I will take care of it."

"It is my task," she said as defiantly as she could, but it came off as defiant as a mewing kitten.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, but you're useless right now. We can handle Conrad and whatever vampires are left, though after what you did to them, I doubt they'll stick around." She started to argue, but Dean cut her off. "Just lay there and let your friends help you." She breathed in deeply and laid back defeated. "Alright, come on, Cas."

They moved away from the bed, but Castiel felt a pull on his arm. Enoch had grabbed his sleeve.

"Thank you," she breathed, eyes closed. She was thanking him for helping her, for taking care of Dean, though she knew that he would do that anyway. However, more importantly she was also thanking him for stopping her in the field. For saving her vessel and keeping her on Earth, though she knew that he should have been no where strong enough to do it. She lazily released him and fell back into unconsciousness.

The Farmhouse was quiet again. It was still early in the morning and the soft sounds of waking birds could be heard. It would have been a kind of serenity for some, as long as they didn't look in the field behind the house. The silence shattered along with the front door as Dean kicked it open. The old, useless wood scattered across the floor. As he plowed through the door way, a Vampire was there to meet him. The vampire grabbed him and hoisted him into the air. Dean retaliated by stabbing him in the chest. The blow did little, but it was enough to distract him from noticing Castiel who now stood behind. Castiel placed his hands on the vampires head and it gasped and gurgled. Dean watched as its eyes turned to ash.

They cleared the rest of the house easily enough, leaving a wake of bodies either beheaded or burned from the inside out.

They both barreled into the kitchen, but instead of more of the blood thirsty monsters, a lone girl sat in a chair at the little table. Dean recognized her as the young blonde that confronted him outside the house. She seemed almost dead. Her head hung limply and she was severely slumped in the chair. Her left arm lay across the table with a syringe protruding in the crook of her elbow.

She hissed at them showing her wicked fangs, and then suddenly laughed and slumped a little more. She tried to focus on them but something seemed wrong with her eyes. They were not working right but she didn't really care about that now. She called out to them. In her head the thought was perfectly formed, but on the way to her mouth they got all jumbled and what came out was gibberish.

"What's wrong with her?" Castiel asked as they advanced on her.

"I think," Dean said surveying the area. "I think… she's high." She laughed again and reached up at Castiel, who brushed her hand away.

"We can't leave her like this." He stared at Dean clearly telling him to take care of it. Dean sighed and stepped closer to her ready to strike. But as soon as he got in arms reach she suddenly became very alert. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him very close to her face. "Dean!" Cas yelled as he moved to pull him from her grasp, but Dean stopped him. Her eyes were clear and angry, but her fangs had retracted. She leaned to his ear so that she was sure he would hear her.

"We had to do it or he wouldn't give it to us. And we needed it. It hurt so bad, but he would take all the pain away… but it changed us. Can't stop… or the pain comes back. We had to do it." She released him and leaned back in the chair. Her end was quick and Dean took no pleasure from it.

The basement door stood ajar and quiet. Castiel pushed it open and stared down into the darkness. As he turned back to Dean, there was no need to speak it; there was something moving in the gloom. They eased down the rough wooden steps.

Conrad again in his old man meat suit, puttered around the space. He murmured to himself desperately as he shuffled papers. He suddenly stopped and spun around. His face was scared and insane.

"Back! Back? Not supposed to come back yet, you see." He pointed over Dean's shoulder at Castiel. "Another, still another. YOU'RE BREAKING ALL THE RULES!" He screamed and clawed at himself. It was terribly clear now just how pathetic he was.

"Cas," Dean commanded. He may have been pathetic, but he was still a demon and stronger then Dean. Castiel took his cue gladly, grabbed Conrad by the collar and threw in to the wall holding him there. It was like a scene from an old mobster movie. Dean was the brains, Castiel was the muscle, and Conrad was the snitch that was about to have his knee caps blown off.

"What do you want from me?" Conrad whimpered not daring to take his eyes off of Castiel. He wasn't like the other angel. The other one was small and looked harmless, like a human, but this one… Conrad's eyes saw him in a way Dean could not, and the image sent a shiver through his frail body.

"A map," Dean said. "To Lucifer's cage."

"Map? Map? I don't have a map."

"You're lying," Castiel said matter-of-factly, calmly, and then slammed him against the wall again. Conrad gasped and nodded sadly.

"Yes, it is my nature, you see."

"Dude," Dean shook his head and leaned in close. "Shooting you in the face is about to be part my nature."He nodded to Cas, who put his palm on Conrad's forehead. A light started to shine from the demon's eyes and mouth. It was faint but started to grow as Cas concentrated on sending Conrad back to Hell. He coughed and gagged.

"Alright, alright!" He begged. Castiel withdrew his hand. "I have a map, you see, but I don't know what it was for. Can't read it, you see."

"Where?" Dean barked. Conrad raised a shacking hand pointing to a small desk in a back corner.

"In my book."

"Get it," Dean grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the desk. Conrad meekly crouched to the lowered drawer. He was facing away from the two and expected that at any moment the angel would finish what he had started and he would find himself in the pit. It seemed to take some effort to pull the drawer open, but he finally did and rummaged through it. He stood slowly holding the book to his chest lovingly.

"It is my work, you see. So much work… so much…" His voice trailed off. "But it's not done yet. I have more experiments." He spun around. One hand was wrapped tightly around the book, the other equally tight around an ancient revolver.

Dean didn't have time to react. Conrad pulled the trigger and the bang shattered in Dean's ear. However, though the shot was practically point blank, the bullet flew over his shoulder harmlessly. Dean grabbed for the book just as Castiel clamped a hand on his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Enoch sat on the bed, her knees pulled to her chin. The curtains were closed causing an artificial dimness and the TV was the only light. It illuminated her face as she watched yet another classic black and white romance. She sighed annoyed for no reason and flicked her wrist. The channel changed to something much more modern with many explosions. She flicked her wrist again and the channel blipped to one of those shady channels that most people don't admit to watching and never in the middle of the day. Her eyes widened at the scene she was now watching, but then they narrowed and her brow furrowed as it did when she tried to understand human behavior.

"Hmmm," She said to herself. "That would explain much."

Suddenly Castiel and Dean appeared in the corner of the hotel room. Dean jerked his head around obviously disoriented, but in his hand the tattered book stayed.

Enoch practically jumped off the bed. As she did so, she hurriedly waved her hand at the TV and it shut off. She was feeling and looking much better. Her unnatural healing was able to reduce the horrible black burns to faded bruises.

"Did you retrieve the map?"

Dean looked down on her, shocked. "Well, you're looking better."

"The map, Dean Winchester, the map." He pushed the book into her grasping hands.

"Conrad said it was in here." She held the book as if it were something terribly disgusting.

"I gather then, that you dispatched him."

"No exactly. Cas pulled us out before I could."

Enoch looked at Castiel quizzically. It was not like an angel of his reputation to flee a lone demon.

"He shot at Dean," Castiel explain.

"Oh," she turned to Dean. "Are you alright?"

"You getting sentimental on me, E? I'm fine. I've had a lot worse; though don't try to talk to me from my left. All I can hear is this damn ringing."

She nodded and turned back to Castiel. "You were right to leave when you did. I will take care of the house." She crossed to the bed and laid out the book. At the same time somewhere outside of town a strange and inexplicable lightening strike hit the farmhouse and surrounding fields. It started a fire and by the time the fire department will have been able to get it under control, the house will be destroyed and everything in it burned beyond any recognition.

Enoch rifled through the book looking for the map, but could not find anything. She leafed through it forward and back, turned it upside down, but nothing. With each search, her anger grew and another light bulb broke somewhere in the room. Eventually Dean, worried that there would be no lights left at all, took it from her and searched himself. However he too found nothing.

Cas was unusually quiet as the other two started to argue about who was reading the book wrong and who was missing what, which just caused Dean's voice to rise and more light bulbs to pop. Enoch snatched the book away from Dean's grip and started to turn the pages yet again, when a thought came to him. He stepped in close to Enoch to get a better look at the binding.

"What are you doing?" she asked rather uncomfortable by his closeness. He yanked the book away from her and started to tear off the binding. It looked like old wrinkled leather, and none of them dared to think what animal it came from, but as he started to pull at it, it was clear that this was not the book's original binding. It came off easily in one large piece.

The book was tossed on the bed and Dean smoothed out the leather on a small table under a lamp. It seemed that his idea was in vain. It seemed as if it was completely unmarked. Dean sighed and turned it over, which was the same, but as he flipped it the two angels (now standing on either side of him) leaned in closer.

"What is it?" he asked.

"A seal," Castiel said taking the map from Dean. He had never seen a seal quite like this one. He put it closer to the light. "A very old seal."

"So what does that mean, the thing is locked or something?"

"That is exactly what it means," Enoch said. "It is encrypted; the only way to read the map is to break the seal with an incantation, but I do not know where we would find such a thing."

Dean, unbothered by the bad news, reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. "Maybe not, but I bet Bobby does."

"How could he? It would be ancient and secret."

Dean dialed and put the phone to his ear. "You haven't been around long, so you don't know, but this is what we do. We find some impossible situation and smash it with a hammer until we work something out."

"I do not believe you are understanding how obscure,"

"Hey," Dean put up a hand to silence her. "The big kids are talking. Hey Bobby… yeah, I need a favor… name calling seems a little inappropriate… fine, fine, just put down the whiskey and get your computer." He turned to Enoch. "Draw a picture of the seal."

She went back to the desk where Castiel was still studying the leather. She found a large pad of paper with the motel's logo printed across the top, and started to detail the seal. She had to glance over Cas's shoulder a few times so as to get it completely right, and when it was done she held it up to examine. At best it was crude. Kill a man, wipe out a city, rain down fire and brimstone, she could do all that, but perform a spell or create sigils; that was a different matter all together. She grimaced and handed it over to Dean hoping that it was good enough. He took a picture of it with his phone and went back to talking with Bobby.

"Do you think this will help?" Enoch ask Castiel.

"Bobby's skills are many. He has found much more in old tombs than you would think. If he can't find the incantation then, I think, no man on Earth can." He stopped, noticing the intensity in which she was staring at him. He wasn't sure if it made him uncomfortable or not.

"You are sweating." She said calmer than she felt. She sweated at times. It was not a pleasant experience, but it was one of the side effects of being Earth bound. However, Castiel wasn't Earth bound. "Why are you sweating?"

Cas brought his hand to his forehead and felt the wet beads. He was just as confused as Enoch. He couldn't explain it.

"What the," it was Dean from across the room. "I'll call you back." He had been pacing as he spoke to Bobby, and he just happened to be at the right angle to see inside Castiel's coat as he raised his arm. Dean crossed to him and pulled back the right lapel of his trench coat and suite jacket. Blood caked his shirt and flowed freely from his shoulder. Instantly Dean replaced the coats and held his hand over the wound applying pressure. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I don't know."

"Leave," Enoch said matter-of-factly. "Go back and heal yourself."

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed confused, he was finding it harder to concentrate. "I can't." He suddenly teetered on his feet holding his head. Dean tried to steady him, but it was no use. His knees gave out next, but Enoch caught him under the arm and helped Dean drag him to the bed. Dean pushed back Cas's coats and shirt again trying to get a better look.

"What happened to him?" Enoch asked softly.

"It looks like a bullet hole. How the hell?"

"You said Conrad shot at you and missed."

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure he was shooting at you?"

"Even if he wasn't, it doesn't explain this."

"Maybe being that he is of lesser rank, he cannot withstand a gunshot as I."

Really? She was going to bring up her pompous, elitist bullshit now?

"That's not it, believe me. The first time I met the guy I shot him three times in the chest and then stabbed him, and he didn't even flinch. This is different. Alright," He suddenly backed away giving Enoch a wide berth. "Heal him."

"What?" She was totally dumbfounded. "I… uh… I cannot."

"You're an angel right? I've seen Cas do it. Hell, he did it to me after I went a round with Lucifer. Just put your hand on his head and do whatever you guys do." He grabbed for her hand but she yanked it away.

"You do not understand. Healing is not really my forte."

"Your forte? It's not your forte?" He was yelling now. "Well, then, what the fuck is your forte?"

"Killing people!" She yelled back, and they both sat for a moment silent.

"I forgot about that. Maybe it's time to learn a new skill, E"

"I am not saying I _will_ not heal him, I am saying that I _can_not. Please recognize the difference."

"You healed me in the bar."

"You are human. Angels are a bit more complex, and you did not have a gunshot wound."

"So what are we supposed to do, then?"

"Have you never come across anything like this before?"

"Well, yeah," Dean had come across this kind of thing far too much it would seem. "But this is Cas. He's supposed to be bullet proof, you know."

"I confess, I do not know, but if you have any idea of what could help him, I suggest you do it now."

Dean nodded and looked back to the wound. Luckily whatever had hit Castiel was not very powerful. The damage was not deep. He dug back into his memory for the field medic training his father had given to him. Remove the bullet, stop the bleeding. It was really all he could do. For a moment he contemplated going to a hospital, but they would want an explanation that he didn't have. Glancing at Enoch, he thought it to be a truly terrible idea with her burns still visible on her skin. How would they explain that?

He told her what he planned to do, and E nodded solemnly and then replied, "I will pray for you."

"Uh, thanks," He said dubiously, "but I think you can actually be useful."

Enoch did not like what this statement implied, but she said nothing. She instead followed all of Dean's orders as he slowly removed the bullet from Castiel's shoulder. Once removed, he dropped it in the metal waste basket and it pinged as it bounced around the bottom.

Removing the bullet turned out to be the easy part. The bleeding itself seemed to give Dean the most trouble. No matter what he did, it wouldn't stop. It seemed to take a long time to get it under control, but eventually the flow seemed to ebb. Dean grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom to hold over Cas's wound when his phone rang. The screen light up with the name 'Bobby'. Enoch was at her usual spot by the window staring out into the early evening gloom.

"E," he called her over. "Hold this for me; I got to answer my phone." She took the towel from him and stared expectantly. "I mean hold it to Cas's shoulder." She looked down at Castiel's unconscious form and then back at Dean.

"What?"

"We still need to put pressure on it." She looked down again and then back at Dean.

"I… do not think," the cell phone screamed from his pocket and he was not about to have this argument with her.

"Ok, you're right, I'll ask someone else." He looked around the empty room. He turned in a full circle, and then came back to Enoch. "Looks like you're the only one here." She gave him an unamused look. "Just put your hand on his shoulder and think really hard about healing him, ok?"

She hesitantly did as she was told, being careful as to not touch Castiel's bare skin. Dean decided that maybe a little fresh air was what he needed, and took his phone outside. He answered as he leaned heavily against the ever sturdy Impala. It gave a little under his weight but held him comfortingly.

"Hey Bobby," he said into the cell and for the first time he let his weariness to be heard.

"You alright?" Bobby's voice floated back.

"I'm fine, but Cas… he's uh hurt."

"How the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything that's happening anymore." Dean rubbed his eyes. "Anyway, you got anything?"

"That's what I'm calling about. I got good news, but I also got bad news."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"The good news, I think I found something that might be able to make heads or tails of that map you found. But, bad news, there's a catch."

"Why can't anything ever be easy?"

"Because our luck's never been that good."

"Ok," Dean braced himself for the worse. What could possibly be worse? "What's the catch?"

"The ritual or spell or whatever it is has to be done during a full moon."

"Of course it does. Does it also have to be performed naked in a field somewhere dancing around a bonfire with 10 virgins? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the virgins, but honestly? God Damn magic."

Bobby paused on the other end. "Are you ok? You're sounding a little… hysterical."

He _was_ sounding a little hysterical and he knew it. Trying to calm himself, Dean continued, 'Yeah yeah, I'm just… tired, you know. When's the next full moon?"

"Two days." There was silence as Dean calculated the distance from Lancaster and Sioux Falls.

"I'd have to leave now to get there on time."

"Yeah, or wait another month."

Dean closed the phone staring at the closed door of the hotel room. Leaving Castiel is this state pulled at his sympathy, but on the other hand according to Enoch, translating the map was one step closer to freeing Sam. He entered the hotel room to find Enoch sitting next to Cas still holding the towel to his shoulder. She looked startled and very uncomfortable.

"How is he?"

"The same."

Dean grabbed his duffle bag and started to toss his few belongings into it. "There's been a change of plans. Bobby might be able to translate the map, but I need to get it to him as soon as possible." She stood determinedly.

"Then we should leave immediately." Dean froze confused.

"We?" he asked his eyebrows rising. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He gestured at Castiel. "We can't just leave him."

"But you just said that our time was limited."

"Right, it is. That's why you are staying here with him, while I go."

It was Enoch's time to freeze. Her eyes narrowed at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. "

"I was hoping that I had mistaken you. If you are leaving I must go with you. I am your protector, and I am sure you are aware that I cannot do that if I am not by your side."

"I don't need a baby sitter," he said continuing to throw things into the bag, now with perhaps a little more vigor. "I've gotten along just fine without you."

"You had your brother before me."

Dean rounded on Enoch. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but are not replacing my brother in some way."

"That's not what I meant," She said trying to defuse his anger, and though she didn't quite know what she had said to make him lash out at her; she did know that it was totally her fault.

"I mean, I know you are some big time Seraphim sent from on high to us poor pathetic lesser beings," his voice dripped with sarcasm as he gestured to both himself and Castiel. "But I got news for you, sister, I don't need you. You came to me, for some reason, with your mission that, oh by the way, you don't know anything about. You talk a good game, but you are just as clueless about everything as the rest of us around here. I don't need you to look after me. I need you to look after him."

Her eyes darted away from Dean's to stare down at Castiel. She felt embarrassed for picking this fight with Dean, mostly because she was lying. She was perfectly aware that Dean could take care of himself and her presence wasn't necessary, but to be left alone with the injured angel downright scared her. She couldn't heal and if anything nasty found them, she had proven that she was not adept to one on one combat. The feeling of uselessness was a new one for her, and she wondered why God had sent her here when she seemed so ill equipped for the task. Her eyes again met Dean's.

"How long?" She asked calmly, trying to convince both him and herself that she was stronger than she felt.

"Five days at the most."

"Three days," She countered.

"Okay, I'll try to get back in three or four days." He turned to leave but half way out the door, Enoch grabbed his arm. He turned to face her and saw an expression he was not expecting. She wasn't mad but dangerous. She then spoke slowly and clearly as the lights flickered behind her.

"Listen to me Dean Winchester; if you do not return in three days, I _will_ come find you." It was a deliberate warning and Dean thought that in her eyes he saw a glimpse of what she once was so many years ago. But this was Dean and he was never one to respond to threats positively. He had been dicked around so many times before by angels, he wasn't going to start taking it now.

"Fine," he said trying to match the tone in her voice. "But, now you listen to me, if you come after me," he jammed his finger over her shoulder at the hotel bed, "he sure as hell better be with you." She nodded and released his arm. They stared at each other and in that brief moment neither knew if they were friends or enemies. Enoch was the first to break the gaze and as she did the lights came to their full brightness and Dean was gone.

Turning back to the hotel room, a frustration came over her. She had been able to keep relatively calm. Calm for her anyway. In her younger years things would have been much different, something would have been on fire by now and most probably several people would be dead. However that was not her role anymore. She was no longer the hand of God's vengeance. She had reminded herself of that quite frequently these past few weeks. Being on Earth again, and bombarded by all the emotions that she had forgotten was starting to ware on her heart. If indeed she still had one. Looking at Castiel now, she doubted it.

She had been ready to leave him without a blink of her eye. She tried to think back to her time as a Principality and Earth as it had been then. She had compassion then; she had naively allowed herself to feel freely and share with humans much more than she should have which caused so many lives. It seemed far too long ago to think about. Everything was easier in Heaven. All she felt there was the love of God and the dull pangs of guilt she could never seem to free herself of. But it was bearable. On Earth everything was far more intense.

She looked down at her feet and kicked the presumably empty trash bin sitting there. It toppled over and something small and round fell out rolling a few feet away. Enoch had forgotten about the bullet retrieved from Castiel's shoulder. She picked it up and examined it. Something about it didn't seem right to her. She went to the bathroom and rinsed it under running water removing the dried blood. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, she remembered the strange yet familiar smell in Conrad's lair and everything became clear to her. She held up the bullet and cursed under her breath in Enochian. This was bad, but at least she knew now what needed to be done.

Enoch grabbed a paper cup and filled it in the sink. She preformed the sign of the cross over it and blessed the water; she then retrieved her silver knife. She sighed heavily standing over Castiel, and placed the water and knife on the side table.

She sat next to him and pulled back his coat and shirt from the wound to examine it again. It didn't look any better. She looked up at his face and suddenly wondered when the last time she had been this close to another angel had been. She studied his face and found that she actually liked it, but that was her vessel talking. She liked Castiel the way she liked pancakes. When her vessel was alive she went for pancakes every Sunday with her friends, and she was attracted to slightly older men with dark hair and brooding eyebrows. Enoch new this, but still…

She looked around not totally convinced that she was alone and inched a little closer to him. She could… I mean no one would know… not even Castiel would really know… unless it killed him. She absently licked her lips, which felt abnormally dry, inching still closer. She was very close now. She could feel his light breathing on her face. All was quiet except his breathing, and her own. She wondered why it had sped up. She closed her eyes…

And pulled away.

"Stupid," she cursed herself. "This is stupid, stupid… stupid." She kept repeating the word as she dipped her knife in the holy water. "Stupid," she said one more time just before plunging the blade deep into his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

Twenty eight and three quarter hours later, the Impala was ten minutes from Bobby's ramshackle house. Dean had driven practically the whole time, except for four hours when, overcome with exhaustion, he pulled to the shoulder and slept. It was a poor sleep so it was understandable that he felt like hammered crap. However it wasn't just the lack of sleep. He didn't like how he left Enoch. Not so much for his sake or hers, but for Castiel's. The whole time he drove, and slept for that matter, he worried over Cas. As far as he knew Enoch had left him to die already. At this point Cas was the only brother he had left, and losing another friend could be too much.

However a small voice echoed behind all of his worries. It questioned why he didn't trust Enoch. She had saved his life. She hadn't shirked danger or left him high and dry. And as far as he could tell, though she was awkward and rough to interact with, she had not lied. But, his other half would always inject, he had been wrong before. He glanced down at the map; a map that he would have never known existed if it was not for her. Was it that farfetched to believe that maybe God had sent her to free Sam and help Dean? Didn't he deserve it? After everything they had done; all the demons killed, the Apocalypse stopped, the rebellious angels dispatched; wasn't it time for some kind of reward? A helping hand?

Dean sullenly turned the dial on the radio. The Impala's speakers blared Foreigner and he started to hum along grateful for the music, something to concentrate on; something to keep him awake. By the time the sleek, black figure rolled up to Bobby's a fine layer of dust had settled over it and Dean felt the same. He was looking out through a veil of dirt and fatigue, but there was no time to rest. The full moon would be that night and who knew what had to be set up or gathered. He reached for the door handle and hesitated. Maybe just an hour nap.

Bobby had other plans, though. Just as Dean exited the Impala, Bobby was walking out of the house. He carried an old worn back pack clearly full and heavy, and two shovels. Dean didn't like the look of that.

"What took you so long? You look like crap."

"Howdy to you too," Dean said trying to rub away his brewing headache.

"You ready for this?"

"Ready for what?"

"Well, virgins not so much, but you were right about the field and fire. This is going to take a while to set up, including digging an eight foot hole."

"And you happen to know a field where we can dig a big-ass hole and then set it on fire without anyone noticing."

"Yeah," he said it like the fact was obvious. What wouldn't Bobby know a field like that? "Where's Cas and… the… you know, girl angel?"

"Enoch," Dean corrected.

"Yeah, that one."

"Cas is pretty bad, really bad. Never seen him like this. I didn't know what to do, so I left Enoch to watch him until I could get back. Maybe when we are done with this," he gestured to the shovels and backpack. "You could look in your books for something that might fix him."

Bobby shrugged, "Can't say I remember anything, but I'll look. Are you sure it was ok leaving Cas with Enoch? She didn't strike me as the nurturing type."

"She's not, that's for sure."

"Still, it's her own kind, that's got to mean something, right?"

"I don't know. It's like they don't really think of each other as the same. In fact, I get the feeling that they don't really like each other. Cas won't even look at her. For all I know I could get back there and they will both be gone from smiting each other to death."

"Isn't that a pleasant thought? Get in the van."

The steady, rhythmic thumping of fingers falling on a cheap faux-wood surface was the only sound in the room. Enoch drummed away waiting anxiously. Everything moved slowly on Earth. Everything felt binding and small. It put her in a bad mood, as well did waiting. She had always hated waiting. Patience was definitely not one of her virtues, but here she was… Waiting for Dean to come back or his time to run out, waiting for Castiel to wake up. She absently scratched at her shoulder blade in annoyance.

Though Enoch's time in the hotel was unpleasant, she was at least able to produce something good. The silver knife and holy water had done its job and Castiel seemed to be healing. His breathing had steadied and the wound was closing, but he was still unconscious. She stood and stretched her arms wide and felt pain, sharp, rolling across her back, something she thought she understood, but dreaded.

Going to the bathroom, she flicked the light switch. The old florescent blinked and flickered into action casting what seemed like a pale green light. It revealed Enoch staring sullenly into the mirror over the small stained sink. Her dark hair fell heavy over her shoulders and her green eyes seemed impossibly bright considering the weariness she felt. Sighing heavily, she again felt tightness across her shoulder blades. The same tightness she had been feeling for days. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and turned her back on her reflection. Her eyes then nervously glanced over her shoulder and saw what she had feared.

Two parallel scars ran down her back from shoulder to waist. They looked red and angry and ached with every movement, but the wounds had not opened. She was at least thankful for that. Gingerly she touched the scars and winced. Just one more annoyance, she thought to herself as she slipped her shirt over her head again.

She shut the light off on herself and opened the bathroom door. As it swung open a shadowed figured awaited her. It was tall, bulky and sinister. A gasp escaped her as she threw a punch. It landed solidly a split second before she jump backward in hopes of finding an escape root, but all she found were the bathroom mirror and sink which she nearly tore down in her panic. The shadowed figure fell back a step, but then stumbled forward seemingly groping for something. The light switch. The bulb burned illuminating the scene, Enoch perched half on the sink staring down her attacker… Castiel.

"Oh, you," she said breathing heavy with relief. "What were you thinking sneaking around, like that?"

"I wasn't aware I was sneaking." He was muffled by the hand he held over his mouth obviously cradling the impact of Enoch's punch. "Forgive me for saying so, but I think your reaction was a little extreme."

"I am sorry, but being surprised like that… well, it was a natural reaction. What were you doing?"

"I woke up groggy and dizzy, in general not feeling well. I thought perhaps splashing water on my face might clear my head. I didn't know you were in here."

"Oh," Enoch moved from the sink and gestured to it.

"Thank you, but it would seem that my head is quite clear now." He went to the sink any way and peered into the cracked remains of the mirror. His bottom lip was split and bleeding and he generally looked awful. The usually dark circles under his brooding eyes seemed a little darker; his face a little more gaunt; his wrinkles and lines a little more prominent. Being sick was a new and extremely unpleasant experience for him. He turned the faucet to cold and rinsed the blood from his mouth and took a hand full to his face. Angels never really use the word "hell" as an adjective. But if they did, Castiel would have used in at that moment to describe how he felt.

Enoch sidled around him and out to the main room. She could hear him bang around the bathroom for a moment longer before shuffling out.

"What happened?" he asked.

Enoch was ready for this question and held out her hand. There in the center of her palm the ruined bullet laid. It took a few seconds for Castiel's eyes to focus on the small object but once they did his expression changed immediately. It was as if a bolt of lightning had shot through the spinning in his head, and everything was very clear. His eyebrows furrowed in a familiar way.

"That's alarming."

"Yes," she agreed, "very."

Sweat beaded on his forehead, collected on his back and rolled down his chest as the shovel dug into the soft ground. There had been rain the night before. Not a torrential down pour, but enough to soften the ground and make the mud suck at the shovel. Bobby stood at the lip of the hole reading from his tomb and generally supervising as Dean dug into the Earth. It always seemed that Dean got stuck doing the digging. He threw a last load of soil over his shoulder and stabbed the shovel into the ground. Leaning on it heavily, he survived his work.

"I think this should do it," he said breathlessly.

"I don't know," Bobby said never taking his eyes off the book. "It's supposed to be eight feet wide. That looks more like seven feet and three quarters." Dean's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Yeah, well, it's good enough. Unless you want to scamper your old ass down here and finish up." Bobby made some noncommittal noise as Dean hoisted himself out of the hole. His pants and boots were caked with the black mud so he didn't even bother standing. Instead he simply rolled onto his back to rest for a bit. There was a dull thud as Bobby snapped the book shut.

"I don't know why to climbed out we need to make a pyre in the middle, get back down there."

"Man, I drove all night and haven't eaten anything all day. You get down there."

"I've seen you do more on less sleep."

"Man," Dean sulked as he rolled himself into the hole again.

It took hours to make the pyre to Bobby's exact instructions. Not only did they have to stack the wood in a certain pattern, but there were rosewood branches to be placed, symbols to be etched into planks and drawn on the ground. Herbs were to be scattered, sulfur to be sprinkled, and lamb's blood to be smeared. All this and more until finally Bobby said, "Alright I think that'll do it."

Dean scrambled out of the hole, and notice that the sky had grown very dim. It had been an overcast day, but it was clear that twilight was taking hold and soon the only light would be the full moon. He could see it even now hanging close to the horizon.

"Ok," Bobby continued. "One more thing." He handed Dean a canister of table salt and shrugged." Just in case. With that he started a complicated chant in an ancient tongue as the younger of the pair made a circle of salt around his feet, just big enough for two grown men to stand in comfortably. The chant went on for a while as the two stood within the circle anxious. Bobby's voice rang across the field with every ancient word as the moon steadily climbed the sky. It all seemed to go by far too quickly and suddenly the moon was high and the twilight had given way to total black. Bobby's voice stopped and as the last few echoes rolled into silence, he struck a handful of matches and threw them onto the pyre.

A bright flash lit up the night but there was no fire, just a fine trail of smoke wafting into the air. The two held their breath as the quiet settled in around them… nothing. Dean swallowed and dared to break the silence. His voice sounded far too loud.

"Maybe it didn't work?" But, of course it had worked. The pile of wood began to shift as if some small animal was trapped inside. Several planks fell away to reveal spindly arms grasping, pulling the rest of the form up from the pit. A young boy emerged from the wood and herbs and sat himself atop it all.

However, it was clear to Bobby and Dean that this was no true boy. His fingernails wear black as if he had been digging at coal which matched the raccoon rings around his red eyes. He was dingy and dirty which made him look dark in the gloom, except the shocks of pure white threaded among his brown hair.

"Well, I'm here, who is it that summoned me?" His voice was that of a dried up old man.

"Bobby," Dean hissed in his ear. "A demon?"

"Not a demon," He whispered back. "Well, kind of not a demon. An Elemental. This one is known as the Gate Keeper."

"Yeah, and I'm the key master." Dean did little to hide his displeasure or sarcasm.

"I am summoned, yet you talk amongst yourselves. This is highly irregular." The boy with the old man's voice muttered. Bobby and Dean exchanged looks.

"Ugh," It was Bobby who spoke first though his voice did not sound as strong and clear as it had just a few moments ago. "We have a map. It's coded or sealed. We were hoping that you would be able to, uh, help us out with that."

The boy's eye brow cocked interested.

"This is a menial task."

"Maybe not," Bobby continued rapidly. He held his hand out to Dean for the map. "It's not sealed by humans. It was done by angels, maybe even something else. Something more powerful."

The boy's other eyebrow lifted to match the first and his head swiveled as if he was trying to decide if this was interesting enough for his time. It seemed that he made up his mind that it was, as he lifted himself off his seat and climbed down the pyre. As his coal smeared bare feet touched the wood and Earth, they left black ashy marks. He climbed out of the hole to the great distress of both Dean and Bobby, but they stood their ground within the salt ring. The boy seemed to move in a not completely human way as he came close and then reached out for the map. Dean released it gladly.

The Elemental's face seemed to gleam as his gaze fell upon the blank page. He dropped to the ground crossed legged and muttered over the thing while tracing his finger back and forth.

"This is interesting," he said looking up at the two men. "Very interesting, but not so hard of a task." He sat there a while and traced the map more muttering to himself. To Dean it looked like a kid leaned over a coloring book or something. Although it was by far the creepiest kid he had ever seen. He couldn't help his hunter's mind from wondering what it would take to kill something like that. The Elemental's gaze shot up at them and Dean feared that maybe it could read minds. But it just handed the map back. "It is done."

They were astonished. Just like that? Dean eagerly looked down at the map expecting to see, what? He didn't know. A giant red X marking Lucifer's cage? But all he saw were strange symbols and complex geometric designs and they didn't seem to stay still.

"What is this? I can't make any of it out. Did you break the seal?"

The boy had got halfway up the pyre by then. He stopped and looked back. "I released the seal, but only the righteous man can read the text of angels. Not even I can change that." The boy then finished his climb and slithered back into the depths of the pyre. Another flash of light and the entire pile burst into flames.

It was like a weight was lifted from the air itself and humans could breathe freely again. Once they were sure the Elemental was gone, Dean gave Bobby a shove.

"What the hell was that? That was the freakiest shit I've ever seen. It's going to give me the heebie jeebies for weeks."

Bobby just shrugged. "We needed some powerful magic somehow, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but that thing? I don't get it. It didn't even want anything in return."

"Elementals are old. Much older than demons. We don't have anything it would want, except it seems that being that old, they get bored. Thought something like this would entertain it for a few minutes. Good thing it did, you don't want to know what they do when they try to entertain themselves."

"Bobby, the things you know," Dean shook his head, "scare the hell out of me."

"Good. Now help me put out the fire."

"Wait, this whole thing didn't really help, though. I still can't read the map."

"Well, of course you can't. Sorry to tell you this, sunshine, but you haven't been righteous in some time."

"I guess your right about that. You take a look at it."

Bobby gave him a withering look. "You're barking up the wrong tree. I ain't no righteous man."

"Then what am I supposed to do with an unreadable map?"

"Well it seems to me, idgit, that you've got two of the most righteous things in the universe, angels, in your back pocket just waiting for you in some hotel room somewhere. I don't know. Maybe one of them is righteous enough for you? Certainly a Seraphim is righteous enough."

"Alright I get it, and stop saying righteous."

Dark had fallen on the hotel and no sign of Dean. The day had passed slowly and quietly. Castiel was still too weak to transit realms so he had stayed with Enoch the entire time, but they did little talking. Though, neither seemed to mind. They had that in common, the appreciation of silence. Enoch contented herself a while with the magic box, but nothing good was on. As evening came on Enoch noticed Castiel becoming more and more uncomfortable with his shoulder. She wasn't a healer but even she knew that a follow up may be prudent. So after an awkward conversation that resulted in Enoch's temper to be lost for no good reason, she was able to convince Cas to let her look at his shoulder.

Thankfully her worry was unfounded. His shoulder was healing though slowly. Well, slowly by their standards. A person gets shot in the shoulder and you would expect weeks or months of recovery. Angels work on a different time line. Gunshot to the chest? Not a problem, barely feel it. Any wound from a human weapon that doesn't heal instantly is bizarre.

Enoch checked the wound as thoroughly as she could without touching him.

"Please forgive my clumsy attempt at healing you," She said almost sheepishly. This was the closest she had been since she actually hit him. He couldn't decide if it was unsettling or pleasant. He could smell her hair. "There are some skills that I am simply lacking." Cas had come to realize that when she felt insecure she talked more. He had heard stories of all the Seraphim especially Enoch. Her story was long and full of much glory, the way he had heard it, but seeing her now; she was not what he had expected. She seemed sad somehow and unsure. Kind of like himself, which was the last thing Cas had expected.

"What're you doing here?" He couldn't help but ask.

Her eyes shot up at him as if to respond defensively, but she thought better of it and continued to check his shoulder. "It might surprise you, but there are still some of us that do what we are told."

"Not like me."

"Exactly. I was told to go to Earth, protect the brothers Winchester, find you… I never stopped to question if it was possible to find an appropriate vessel, if Dean Winchester would listen to me at all. I did not get preoccupied with details such as if what I was ordered to do was right or wrong."

"You say that now, but you underestimate your renown. I know the stories. I know you acted against the Host before."

This gave her a slight pause. "True, however I never truly rebelled and that was a very long time ago. I was young and hurt. I felt betrayed and angry and let my emotions destroy my judgment. I was wrong. I have repented for my irate emotions and actions."

"And you think I was wrong for standing with the Winchesters."

"It does not matter what I think. You were resurrected and even accepted back into the fold. There is a power much more influential than I on your side." This answer didn't seem to satisfy him for some reason. "But," She continued hesitantly, "personally, I believe what you did, your rebellion, was… not wrong."

At that moment Enoch became aware that perhaps she was staring at him a little too long or maybe he was staring at her. But so what? How else are you supposed to give another your full attention? She had in her time stared at many and had never felt uncomfortable, but meeting his eyes felt different. Impossible blue connecting to impossible green. It had been many ages since Enoch could be so close to another angel that was not part of her Seraphim brethren. Her merest glance was enough to destroy lesser angels, but here on this plane, she was the same as he. She was uncomfortable with the thought, and knew she had to say something.

She shot up quickly, her face the usual stone mask, all softness dissipating and said, "It was stupid, but not wrong."

Castiel didn't recognize the retreat for what it was and simply continued stared baffled, head cocked to one side and eyes squinting. She paced the room a few times throwing glances out the window, willing Dean's return, all the while painfully aware of Castiel's eyes on her back. Was this how it was to have cabin fever? She had heard of it, a human ailment, but could never really imagine being confined to one small place. Every day in her vessel she seemed to understand more and more. Soon she couldn't stand it anymore. She turned to face Castiel and threw her arms out wide in almost a threatening stance and said, "What? Your expression is insufferable. I know you must have something to say, so please say it and stop staring."

Her sudden outburst surprised him a little. Under normal circumstances a Seraphim could cower even the Archangels, but seeing her in a vessel, he couldn't bring himself to fear her.

"My apologies," He said still not looking away. "I don't mean to anger you; I'm just somewhat at a loss. You are not how I expected you to be."

"And what is that?"

"One hears stories of your prowess, your descent, and your choice to repent. I thought you would be different somehow."

"Yes, well, I do not make choices anymore."

"You make it seem like it's a prison. To become Seraphim is a great honor."

She sighed. "You are right, of course, but…" She let the thought trail off as she moved away from him.

"But you don't think so."

"I do not feel so," it came out much harsher than she intended as so often happened. "That is always the problem, though. Something you and I have in common. I feel too much. I have been told many times and it has taken thousands of years in service to the Lord to prove that I have mastered my emotions. However, I ask, what better punishment is there for one who feels too much than to place them in a situation where they can feel nothing? The love of God. That is all I know and it is amazing and fulfilling, and yet I am still lacking…I at times wonder if I was ever truly forgiven." She paused as if she suddenly realized where she was and who she was talking to. "Why am I telling you this?"

There was a poison in her words, but it was mostly directed back to herself. She turned away angry and guilty. A painful pressure seemed to have formed in her chest and she had to do something to rid herself of the feeling. Anything.

She suddenly settled on throwing her fist through the wall. She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen, but seemed awfully surprised when the drywall gave way and she fell into the hole up to her armpit. She glanced wide eyed at Castiel who was on his feet and seemed just as surprised as her. Breathing heavy, Enoch took a moment to think about how stupid she had been, her temper getting a hold of her again. Still it could have been worse. So she pulled back her arm slowly as not to make the hole any bigger, but just before she had completely freed herself, her arm yanked to a stop. She pulled again. It didn't budge.

She turned to Cas confused, "I am stuck."

She tugged and wrenched at her arm. She hadn't used her actual strength yet for fear of damaging the wall further, but she wasn't going to be much use trapped in layers of drywall and insulation. Placing a foot against the wall, she pulled again and this time something inside groaned and creaked.

Castiel suddenly got the mental image of Dean returning to a destroyed room. A wall missing and debris scattered about. He had a feeling it would put Dean in a terrible mood. He hurried to Enoch telling her to wait before she pulled the whole building down. He peered into the hole, trying to see what she had snagged herself on.

"Perhaps if you unclenched your fist it would come out easier."

"Castiel."

"Wait, I think maybe,"

"Castiel."

"Hold on, I might,"

"Castiel."

"What?" he turned to her but she was not looking back. Instead she was staring down. There was something strange about her expression. He followed her gaze to her bare forearm where his own hands were tightly wrapped. It took a second for him to realize what he had done before he quickly snatched his hands away.

Enoch continued to stare down at her arm. She rubbed at it as if she couldn't believe what had just happened. Then she turned her eyes to him. They were narrow and stormy, her jaw set. She stepped close to him and Castiel prepared himself for whatever blow she may inflict on him. It seemed that without him even trying, his audacity knew no bounds.

She was a head shorter than he, but as she looked up at him and he felt small and unsure. She took another half step and stopped. Castiel swallowed. But then her eyebrows relaxed, so did her jaw. She closed her eyes and rocked forward onto the balls of her feet pressing her mouth to his.

He froze not fully understanding what was happening. She lingered there for a moment before slowly backing away. Her eyes were wide and it took an effort for her to keep them on Castiel's face. If she wasn't so dumbfounded with her actions, she would have been furious with herself. To her it seemed like one moment she was stuck in a wall and the next she was locked in a very human transaction with Castiel. She stood there waiting for him to yell, or question her, or perhaps just leave. He stood there waiting too, but for what he didn't know. Maybe just waiting for his mind to wrap around what just happened.

And so it went for what seemed like minutes until something clicked for both of them and on some unspoken queue they launch themselves at each other.

At first, their embraces were chase and hesitant, but that didn't last long and continued with increased pressure and increased groping until suddenly Enoch pulled away. Cas's eyes, which had been firmly shut, flew open in alarm once again afraid he had offered some kind of offense.

"Wha?" he tried to speak but it seemed that he was breathing heavier than normal.

"I am still stuck," she replied equally out of breath. She glanced down her right arm staring at the hole it disappeared into and found that all fear of damaging the wall was gone. She pulled hard freeing her hand, making the hole about three times its original size, and showering them both with drywall dust.

With both arms free now, Enoch stepped close to Castiel. She ran her hands across his chest and over his shoulders pushing back his trench coat and suit jacket until they slide off his arms to land in a pile at his feet. She then kissed him again, but this time with purpose, and he gladly accepted pulling her in as close as possible, his hands slipping under her shirt, hers threaded in his hair.

They were like inexperienced teenagers fumbling over buttons and zippers driven on by an instinct not known to themselves, but their vessels. The truth was that they were really bad at it all. However to Castiel and Enoch, two beings so ancient yet so sheltered, it was an incredible encounter that they had never known. And for the first time they each truly understood some of the benefits of being human.


End file.
